


^ v* 












"p 





















CORN IN THE BLADE 



POEMS, 



THOUGHTS IN PROSE 



CRAMMOND KENNEDY. 



TVITH AX INTRODUCTION" BY C. B. CONANT. 




^ WASHED 



BWW YORK: 

DERBY & JACKSON, 498 BROADWAY. 

1S60. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

CRAMMOND KENNEDY, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
District of New York. 



W. H. Tinson, Stereotyper. Geo. Russell & Co., Printers, 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Preface v 

Introduction . . vii 

A Curiosity 17 

DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 

The Love of Jesus 21 

The Baptism of Christ 26 

Jesus in Prayer 29 

Christ in Gethsemane 31 

The Crucifixion 35 

The Manifestation 39 

Joy in Heaven 41 

God . 44 

Glorying in the Cross 46 

The Two Loves 43 

Why hast thou no Faith 50 

I'll Trust in God 52 

Sabbath Eve 54 

The Presence of Christ 59 

Prayer 61 

Death 64 

Birthday Meditations 66 

PIECES ON NATURE. 

There is a God 73 

The Conflict between L'ght and Darkness 75 

Sunset on the Ocean 77 

Spring 7;) 

The Evening Sky S2 

Forevermc-re 84 

Stone Mountain in Moonlight 86 

The Sky at Night (A Colloquy between Observation, Fancy, and the 

Soul) SS 

Stanzas 92 

HYMNS. 

A Wish 97 

His Names . . . 99 

Our New Year's Gathering 103 



IV CONTENTS. 

PAG": 

An Anniversary Hymn 105 

Eventful Moments 107 

The Vision of John 109 

A Wonder 112 

The World's Anthem 114 

To the Missionary 116 

An Appeal : . 119 

JOY IN SORROW, LIFE IN DEATH. 

The Separation 125 

Lines on the Death of a Pastor 128 

The Little Maiden 131 

Love Tested . . . . .133 

To a Dying Orphan 135 

The Death of Sister Mary 138 

Is Sister Mary Dead 140 

Brother Charley 142 

A Child's Voyage to Heaven 144 

Memory and Faith 148 

PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 

My Mother's Love 153 

A Home Scene \ ... 155 

Music 158 

What should I Love 159 

The Christian Lover's Lay 161 

On Hearing a Child Sing .168 

First Love Lost 164 

Little Alice 167 

The Parting 169 

The Return . 171 

To Nobody . . . . , 174 

Premonitions of an Early Death 176 

The Angel and the Child 178 

Hope and Love 180 

The Little, Laughing, Blue-eyed Child 182 

Speak Gently , 185 

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 

The Steam Horse 191 

Stanzas for Young Men 192 

Sights and Thoughts on Broadway 194 

The Massacre of St. Bartholomew 199 

A Sacred Scene 202 

Chatterton 204 

The Immortality of Man 208 

Life 212 



PREFACE 



A preface is too often an insincere apology for 
what the writer would have done much sooner, if he. 
could have secured the services of a Publisher. 
The author of this unassuming volume, in present- 
ing it to the public, only does what he has desired 
and intended to do, and therefore, the brief state- 
ment of a few facts will answer his purpose. 

In the revisal and arrangement of his composi- 
tions, the author has been greatly aided by timely 
suggestions from his esteemed friend, C. B. Conant, 
Esq., of this city. 

The reader will notice, by observing the dates, that 
many of the poems, if they can be so called, were 
written when .the author was little more than fif- 
teen years of age. These are but child-like expres- 
sions of a child's emotion. If poetry, they are only 
the poetry of the heart. Their literary quality might 
be improved, but extensive alteration would destroy 
their individuality. This accounts for their publi- 
cation almost in their original form. 



VI PREFACE. 

Many of the author's compositions have appeared 
in religious papers. This he regrets, for, even then, 
by a little exertion, he could have made them more 
perfect as literary productions. Some may smile, 
and think that the author will, for the same reason, 
lament in after years the publication of the present 
volume. If he improves, he will undoubtedly per- 
ceive more clearly, in the future, his present literary 
shortcomings ; but he must, at the same time, enjoy 
the consciousness that he made every effort in his 
power to rid his later productions of errors and 
inelegances. 

If anything in the volume indicates pure or lofty 
thought, it must be ascribed only to the ennobling 
influence of the religion of Jesus. Believing that 
the sole object of every writer should be the accom- 
plishment of good, the author humbly dedicates 
this little volume to God, his Saviour, with the 
earnest prayer that its influence may be — a lasting 
blessing. 

C. K. 

New York, May 15th. 



INTKODUCTION" 



It was good philosophy of that wise" old Pharisee, 
Gamaliel, when he said to his brother senators: u Refrain 
from these men, and let them alone, for if this counsel or 
work he of men, it will come to naught ; but if it be of 
God, ye cannot overthrow it." He spake of the divine 
claims of certain men, to which, indeed, God bare them 
witness, with signs, and miracles, and gifts of the Holy 
Ghost. 

But not less in fact, though it may be for common and 
inferior purposes, is all truth divine, and all vitality the 
witness of God to His own. Xothing can live long with- 
out God's truth in it, for that is the vital principle. Men 
need take no pains to kill anything, except it be to spare 
thems elves a present nuisance, for if it be contrary to God 
and nature, it will shortly die of itself. If it be otherwise, 
it cannot be destroyed. 

"Ever the fiery Pentecost 
Girds with one flame the countless host ; 
The word unto the prophet spoken 
Was writ on tables yet unbroken ; 
The word by seers or sibyls told, 
In groves of oak, or fanes of gold, 
Still floats upon the morning wind — ■ 
Still whispers to the willing mind. 
One accent of the Holy Ghost 
The heedless world hath never lost." 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

This being true, too much anxiety is felt to keep down, or 
extinguish the utterances of men. Eather let them be 
heard. If they have a tone that is in accord with the 
music of the spheres, it will at least chime sweetly, if not 
loudly; if it is discordant, fastidious Nature will dismiss 
and forget the sound. Truth watches* her children 
jealously ; she is like the harvest-angels, and is continually 
in the field, dividing the wheat from the tares — this to the 
garner, that to the fire ; she is like the fisher, overhauling 
his swollen net — gathering the good into vessels, casting 
the bad away. 

It is not always within the power of criticism to decide 
in advance of the verdict of time, what will live and what 
will die. This is especially true when the Poet or Pro- 
phet speaks. Sometimes a truth, lying quite unsuspected 
in Nature's lap, is gathered thence by an uncultured 
hand. Often the finder of the jewel, which shall buy his 
freedom, knows nothing of its value — it is to him a rude 
stone — it is no more to his fellows. But he lays it up, and 
it abides its time, for it is precious, and can afford to wait. 
To discover the divine mark upon a thing, human insight 
is feeble enough at the best ; while the masses of men are 
so shackled by customs, or blinded by prejudice, that it is 
chance if they ever see it. Therefore, let him speak whose 
thought presses him. It will either die or live, and if it 
lives, will live upon its own strength, and owe nothing to 
another hand. There is a galvanism, to be sure, which 
gives a ghostly motion, but all the life is in the operator, 
not in the subject ; the dead flesh hastes to be carrion all 
the same. 

Guided by this light, which we see shone so clearly al- 
most nineteen hundred years ago, let us also learn, that if 
any man has a thought or message to his fellows, he has a 
right to speak it in his own way. To allow him to do so 



LXTRODUCTIOX. ]X 

is a wisdom hardly learned. Yet how surely it were wise 
to give this liberty — how unwise to deny it. Individuality 
is the right of every man, and if anything valuable to 
others comes out of him, it is only in virtue of his indi- 
viduality that it has worth. Strip it of that quality, im- 
press upon it the mark of any other mind, and in that 
degree do you cut off its chance of usefulness. There are 
no two souls alike, any more than two leaves, or blades of 
grass, and in their diversity. God has made them helpful 
to each other. 

It has been somewhat broadly said, but truly in the 
main, that no man can possibly state accurately the opinions 
of another. This is readily believed by one who has ex- 
perienced the difficulty of stating his own, either to his 
personal satisfaction, or to the understanding of his hearer. 
If a man has opinions, which seem to him worthy of ex- 
pression, and sufficient education to make them reasonably 
intelligible, by all means let him speak for himself. To 
alter or correct his work is worse than to suppress it, be- 
cause you impair its self-quality, which is its originality, 
and serve yourself with neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. Yet 
> how strongly men are bent upon the contrary course. It 
is difficult to account for the propensity to correct every 
mams work by some other man's standard, except on the 
ground of a universal vanity. So it is found that the 
wisest critics are the most forbearing in this respect. 

Given, then, the privilege of speech, and of speaking in 
our own way, it remains to inquire what limits the speaker 
should impose upon himself, to insure a decent degree of 
consistency, usefulness, and good fame, to save himself 
from the after shame of prematurity, and to be most clearly 
intelligible to his audience. 

It is certainly no good sign when all the opinions which 
are held in youth remain unchanged in maturer years. 

1* 



X INTRODUCTION. 

The least that can be said is that their subject has gained 
nothing by experience. In general, the opinions of men, 
although most liable to change during the first thirty-five 
years of life, are never unalterably settled. It is in the 
power of every man to make these changes upon the advanc- 
ing scale, and it argues little honest thought, or study, and 
little gain from experience or observation, if, at forty, his 
views are not wider, deeper, and more manly than at 
twenty-five. It has, therefore, passed into a maxim with 
some, that no man should write a book until he has passed 
his fortieth year ; to which others add, that then he should 
write but one. It cannot be denied that the world would 
be the gainer for the observance of both these sayings, so 
many are the books which should never have been written. 
Yet if the fear of exposing an immature opinion, and thus 
incurring the charge of inconsistency in after years, was 
allowed always to prevail, we should lose one of the most 
useful and interesting lessons in the spiritual life — the pro- 
cess of the growth of an individual mind. 

The statement of large and mature opinions often has 
upon the mind of a young person the effect of a eulogistic 
biography — it hinders belief in the one case, as it dis- 
courages imitation in the other. The many and successive 
steps, often up-hill and laborious, which have resulted in 
the large and philosophical opinions, are not marked out ; 
the ingenuous inquirer must take these steps for himself, 
or at least must see them indicated, before he can adopt 
the conclusion. And in character, such many lapses and 
temptations as were concealed by the partial biographer, 
although as much a part of the process which made his 
subject what he was, as his virtues were, enter into the 
moral history of the reader, also, and their concealment in 
a model character is especially discouraging. 

There is in the impulses of youth a freshness, unreserve, 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

and honesty, which is not compensated by any degree of 
experience or accuracy. These are qualities that the 
world cannot well do without : yet they, too. are lost in 
the maturer and standard works of the human mind, and, 
with them, some of the finest perceptions and most deli- 
cate timings which are the fruit of that first and guileless 
co-working of the heart and intellect. 

"Innocence is Nature's wisdom ;" 

there is a nearness to divinity which is not reached again, 
but is rather lessened by every farther step which the 
traveller takes. 

u Heaven lies about us in our infancy ! 
Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing Boy, 
But he beholds the light and whence it flows, 

He sees it in his joy; 
The Youth who daily farther from the East 
Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, 

And by the vision splendid, 

Is on his way attended : 
At length the Man perceives it die away. 
And fade into the light of common day." 

For this gain, it is well to bear with the inexperience of 
youth, remembering that his garb may be fitted to him, 
and his manner improved, and that, while this is the lesser 
and external work, his spirit will never fiash so far and 
clear again as when it freshly sprang from the Creator's 
hand to ; " delight and liberty." 

It is not claimed, of course, that genius will mark every 
effort of the youthful mind : only that, in its degree, these 
bright and generous qualities will distinguish it. Xor is it 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

implied that the mind should be stimulated in extreme 
youth, either to perpetrate or publish compositions. As 
youth is peculiarly the impulsive period, then, above all 
other times, is spontaneity essential. ISTo young man 
should write — much less seek an audience — if he can help 
it. If he must, God give him speed. 

Coleridge remarks, that the method of arrangement, in 
collecting miscellaneous pieces, is the order of their com- 
position.' This is high authority, and when the collection 
is complete, or made in mature years, we see the impor- 
tance of the suggestion. Otherwise the mass is chaotic, and 
much discrimination and skill will be required to analyze 
and arrange it, so that the world may have its uses. For 
how different would be the impression of successive pic- 
tures showing the development and growth of a mind into 
symmetry and stature, from the misplaced and irregular 
workings of the same mind, now moving feebly and 
vaguely, and again rapidly and earnestly, alternately bright 
and heavy, or prudent and impulsive. 

The rule, however, is less important in the publication 
of the writings of young persons, because the progress of 
the mind, if not precisely by decades, takes periods. The 
changes which occur between the ages of fifteen and 
twenty, are not likely to be broad or radical ; while those 
which occur between fifteen and forty, are in most cases 
so great as to make a revolution, or series of revolutions, 
in the mind of the subject. 

The volume to which these remarks are introductory, 
is the work of a young man. Indeed, many of the pieces 
date in his boyhood. The dew of his youth lies upon 
them. This may be a reason why they should not have 
been published. Yet, upon the whole, a different conclu- 
sion has been reached, and so they are before the public. 
Among these spring-blooms this introduction stands like a 



INTRODUCTION. Xlll 

strange tree — as it is, a growth of a different soil. There- 
fore the writer takes leave to say what he thinks, or as 
much of that as he deems best, without fear or favor, 
either of the author or the public. 

Crammond Kennedy was born at North Berwick in 
Scotland, on the twenty-ninth of December, 1842. The 
acquaintance of the writer with him dates much later. It 
began in a trifling matter, and has resulted in an intimacy 
which one party, at least, has no reason to regret. "When 
he was about fifteen years of age, Crammond, having been 
from early childhood the subject of religious impressions, 
made a public profession of his faith. This circumstance, 
one of the most interesting which can take place in any 
person's history, determined his aims in life. Thenceforth 
he devoted his strength and talents to the service of that 
glorious Saviour, whose love had entered into his heart, 
and made it free, and joyful, and His own possession for- 
ever. At this time he was called upon to address a reli- 
gious meeting. "With little preparation and no thought of 
the tendency of that step, he complied, and upon rising to 
speak, found the place densely crowded. He had been a 
member of a debating club, and as the address was ex- 
pected, his associates were present to hear him. God gave 
him utterance, and notice being taken of what he said, he 
was invited to speak in other places. So it came to pass, 
that he extended his addresses until they took the form of 
sermons, and he was soon known as u The Boy Preacher." 
The objections cf sober and conservative persons to such 
a course in so young a man. are not here to be argued 
against, nor the dangers of so much notoriety to his 
modesty and solidity, denied. Only this seemed true, that 
good was done, and the call was so strong that he could 
not gainsay it. His own mind is clear that God has 
allotted him to preach the word of life — in that he will 



X I V INTRODUCTION. 

perse.vere. It will gratify those who believe in the need 
of solid preparation for such a work, to learn that Cram- 
inond is a hard student, and that his most anxious friend 
could not be more solicitous than he is, to lay the ground- 
work of a thorough education. 

No one can glance at these poems without seeing that 
they are the breathings of a devout spirit. The tenderest 
sentiments of the writer are interwoven with holy 
thoughts. This is clearly his habit and delight. It is not 
an uncomfortable and ill-fitting garment, not an outside 
tincture, not an unwelcome duty, but the impulse and 
ingrained quality of his heart. Young persons who have 
been carefully brought up, often- have an imitative and 
wordy religiousness. God gave Crammond a thoughtful 
and reverent mind, and although his profession of religion 
was made no sooner than his fifteenth year, his change of 
heart was probably so early in life as to be unremembered 
by him. From his earliest years, with more or less alter- 
nation of feeling, with childish struggles against tempta- 
tion and pride, but with the ceaseless and increasing grace 
of God, he has advanced in the Christian life. — By these 
dealings of God with him, the youthful poet had glimpses 
of the sublimest themes of the imagination, and the finer 
efforts of his muse are due to their inspiration. Well 
might the harp that Jesus strung, be struck first and chiefly 
to His praise. 

As to his style, while it is plainly that of a young person, 
and is marked by occasional redundancy, by some repeti- 
tions of pet phrases, and sometimes by too great elabora- 
tion of thought, it is perhaps, as free from these and other 
defects as could be expected. 

In accordance with the views expressed in the first part 
of this paper, we have hesitated to prune the poems much, 
although they were submitted to criticism with unflinch- 



INTRODUCTION. k XV 

ing freedom, believing that it is better to leave them to 
speak for themselves in their own way. If they serve no 
better purpose, they will show, hereafter, what the writer 
felt, and how well or ill he expressed his feelings at this 
early age. It is quite likely that he will feel more regret 
for their publication when he looks them over twenty 
years hence, than then he will need to feel. There is not 
sufficient gradation of merit to make the order of their 
composition important to observe in their arrangement. 
They have been classified, and the dates generally affixed. 
Private reasons, honorable to the author, had much 
influence in determining the publication of this volume. 
These reasons have prevailed against prudential objections, 
the force of which he feels keenly enough. To those who 
know him intimately, his sincere desire for the glory of 
God and the good of men, and the promise of spiritual 
advancement which his docility gives, will render this 
memento volume more interesting and valuable, than either 
its curiousness as a specimen of youthful talent, or its reallv 
marked poetic fancy. 



CORN m THE BLADE. 



A CURIOSITY. 

The following lines were composed early on a beautiful 
morning, as the Author, then a child of eight years, was 
walking up and down his grandmother's garden, listening 
to the songs of the birds, which were hidden in the old, 
ivy-covered wall, and admiring, in his childish way, the 
beauties of Nature. 

I look around Creation's sphere, 

And view Thy works with wond'ring ear. 

My heart with melody is filled, 

My soul is to the bottom thrilled, 

To hear the birds proclaim Thy praise, 

To Thee their little voices raise, 

To Thee who dwells on high. 

Creation is the work of God ; 

I w r ill proclaim His praise abroad, 

I will affirm His judgments right, 

For He is clothed with power and might. 

North Berwick, Scotland, 1851. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 21 



THE LOVE OF CHEIST. 

The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, 
I have loved thee with an everlasting love ; therefore with 
loving-kindness have I drawn thee. — Jeremiah. 

Having loved his own which were in the world, He loved 
them nnto the end. — John. 

For He hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake 
thee. — Paul. 

FROM EVERLASTING. 



Before the Orb of Day his light sent forth, 
Or breezes blew from south, east, west, or north ; 
Before the tow'rino; hills had sought the skv, 
Or heav'n's blue canopy was stretched on high ; 
Before the shining stars, like drops of light, 
Had twinkled through the gloom of ancient 

Night; 
Before the "Worlds of Beauty had begun 
To wing their rapid circuit round the Sun, 
Christ loved " His own." 



ii. 

When gloom chaotic reign'd supreme around, 
Where Nature on Creation's noon was found ; 



22 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

When all the marshall'd armies of the heaven, 
That light, for ages now, to man have given, 
Were in the dismal shades of Darkness bound ; 
When Silence deep, unbroken was by Sound ; 
Yea, when the Suns that scatter light abroad. 
Slept, uncreated, in the mind of God, 
Christ loved "His own." 



in. 



Before Jehovah tuned the seraphs' voice, 
Who now in Paradise with song rejoice ; 
Before the spotless angels round the Throne 
Assembled were ; when all in Heav'n was lone ; 
Before was form'd the groundless pit of Hell, 
Where spirits lost, and seraphs fallen, dwell, 
Environed close by flaming walls of fire— 
The walls their sin, the flames, Jehovah's ire, 
Christ loved " His own." 



IV. 

For, stretching back in majesty sublime, 
His love anticipates the dawn of Time ; 
And, all along the boundless, unknown coast 
Of vast Eternity, are never lost 
Prophetic glimpses of the unseen way, 
O'er which the course of our Eedeemer lav 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 23 

To Calv'ry's Cross, from His bright Throne 

above ; 
For with an infinite, eternal love, 
Christ loves " His own." 



TO EVERLASTING. 



When, quaking frightfully, oppress'd by fear, 
Th' astonished Earth shall rock, as draweth near 
The dreadful Day of Doom ; when from his place 
The Sun shall flee ; when dark-eyed Gloom shall 

chase 
His light away; when, in the vault of Night, 
The Stars shall close their eyes, and never light 
The Eve again ; when black the Moon shall grow, 
And Darkness reign above, around, below, 
Christ still will love "His own." 



VI. 

When, silent midst the awful gloom, shall rise 
The Throne of God, stupendous in the skies ! 
When from the Judge effulgent beams shall 

flow, 
And scatter darkness wheresoe'er they go ; 
When, startled by the Judgment trumpet's 

sound, 



24 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

All who have slept in death to life shall bound, 
And stand before the Throne ; when ev'ry heart 
In breathless dread, shall palpitate and start, 
Christ's love will shield " His own." 



vn. 

When breathing shall be hush'd, and silence 

deep, 
And still as death's unbroken, dreamless sleep, 
O'er all shall reign, the awful Book of Fate 
Will open'd be ; the everlasting state 
Of an assembled universe ordained, 
And Satan, rampant now, forever chained : 
When Christ, the Judge exclaims, in righteous 

ire, 
" Depart ! ye cursed, to eternal fire !" 

His love will guard " His own." 

VIII. 

When, horror-struck, the doomed shall hoarsely 

call, 
" Ye rocks and mountains, hear, and on us fall ! 
Oh ! hide us from the piercing eye of Him, 
Who sitteth on the Throne !" ' When Hell, so 

grim, 
Shall ope his burning mouth, and fiercely cry, 
" Ye who are doomed th' eternal death to die, 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 25 

Enter the drear abode of endless woe !" 
When, wailing, into punishment they go, 

Christ's love will save " His own." 



IX. 

And, when the gates of Paradise unfold, 
Disclosing endless streets of glittering gold : 
When, midst the sound of loud, triumphal song, 
(Sung by the same angelic, white-robed throng, 
Who with the cry made BethFhem's plains 

resound, 
k4 To ransom fallen man a Saviour's found !") 
Shall enter Jesus, and the ransomed band, 
The purchase of His blood, to Canaan's land. 
He still shall love "His own/' 



God is from everlasting. Who can trace 
The thread of His existence to the place 
"Where first He said, "Tam T So, not till man 
Shows where the being of his God began, 
Shall number'd be the multitude of years 
In which the wondrous love of Christ appears ; 
And. only when the great Jehovah dies. 
Shall weeping angels melt with tears the skies, 
Beeause Christ loves no more! 

1S59-1S60. 

2 



26 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST. 

Then cometh Jesus from Galilee to Jordan unto John, to 
be baptized of Him. But John forbade Him, saying, I 
have need to be baptized of Thee, and comest Thou to 
me ? And Jesus, answering, said unto him, Suffer it to be 
so now ; for thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness. 
Then he suffered Him. 

And Jesus, when He was baptized, went up straightway 
out of the water ; and, lo ! the heavens were opened unto 
Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, 
and lighting upon Him. And, lo ! a voice from Heaven, 
saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased ! — Matthew. 

We are buried with Him by baptism. — Paul. 

The sun was setting, and his last bright ray 

Had kissed the cheek of the departing day ; 

But ere the sunbeam sank to sweet repose, 

It glistened on a ripple that arose 

Upon the breast of Jordan's hallow'd stream ; 

The smiling ripple caught, and kept the beam. 

The trees by Jordan's banks in beauty grew, 

And on the sleeping water shadows threw ; 

These shadows floated lightly on the wave, 

A dreamy, melancholy tint they gave. 

The leaves waved in the breeze that softly blew, 

And on the river's bosom trembled too. 

The day had fled, and yet 'twas scarcely night ; 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 27 

It seemed as if the sun, to hide his light, 

Had gone to sleep, and closed his burning eve ; 
But from his rosy bed, all o'er the sky 
The softened radiance of his sleeping face 
Had spread, to bless. the twilight's vacant place. 
And. as the sun sank down, the moon arose. 
Arrayed in beauty with the shining clothes, 
TThich, through the day. had decked the glorious 

sun. 
That now his circling daily course had run. 
The clothes were trailing robes of purest light, 
The sun had left beside the couch of Xi^ht. 
The evening star shone in a cloudless sky. 
And twinkled in the firmament on high ; 
It seemed to be a glittering, beauteous gem 
Just fallen from Jehovah's diadem ! 
The radiance of the sleeping sun, and star. 
And moon, in softest beauty mingled were. 



'Twas twilight. Jesus stood in Jordan's wave, 

The liquid emblem of His lowly grave. 

In thrilling tones the Prophet's voice arose. 

And, while it sounds, a waiting angel goes, 

And cries to every seraph round the Throne, 

i; Behold the scene I cannot view alone!" 

They come ! they come ! the unseen, heav'nly 

bands, 
And hover o'er the place where Jesus stands ! 
Silence, as deep as death, all Nature bound. 



28 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Her God stood there ! she worshipped without 

sound. 
And now, Immanuel sinks beneath the w r ave, 
And rises, dripping, from His watery grave : 
How emblematic of that blessed morn 
When all the locks of dreadful Death were shorn ; 
When Jesus rose victorious o'er the tomb, 
And from the grave dispersed its ancient gloom ; 
When Christ in triumph soared above the sky, 
And reached His everlasting Throne on high ! 
The Heavens were opened, and Eternal Love 
Appeared in likeness of a snow-white dove ; 
As through the stream the prophet Jesus led, 
It gently hovered o'er His sacred head ; 
And, lo ! a voice was heard, which filled the air, 
Jehovah, as His Son, own'd Jesus there, 
On Jordan's banks the Saviour to the w T orld, 
The Gospel's peaceful banner first unfurl'd ; 
O'er every land it waves, though Satan tried 
To drag it down to dust when Jesus died ! 
Oh ! let us dare to suffer scorn and shame 
For Jesus' precepts, and for Jesus' name ! 
Yea ! let us tread the path Immanuel trod, 
The path made sacred by the Triune God. 

March, 1859. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 29 



JESUS IX PBAYER. 

He v>-ent up into a mountain apart to pray and when 
the evening was come. He was there alone. — Matthew. 
Great is the mystery of godliness. — Path* 

The shades of evening wrap the earth 

In robes of sable hue ; 
The stars shine brightly through the gloom, 

And sparkle in the dew. 
The pale rays from the cold, clear moon 

Glide softly 'mong the trees ; 
The sound of distant waves is heard, 

Borne on the evening breeze. 

Upon a mountain's shaded side 

A kneeling form is seen ; 
A struggling moonbeam seeks the place, 

And shows the Xazarene. 
In solitude the Saviour prays, 

And prayer to Him is rest ; 
His holy soul finds sweet repose 

Upon His Father's breast. 

What a mysterious, awful scene 
Is that which meets us there, 

In this, the lonely midnight hour, 
"When Jesus kneels in prayer ! 



30 CORN" IN THE BLADE. 

Ye angels and arcli-angels, gaze, 
Down from the heavenly land ! 

Why, oh ! why the bended knee, 
And why the clasped hand ? 

Ah ! who can tell ? Who will reveal 

What work that night was done ? 
Who bring to light the sacred band, 

That binds the Three in One ? 
This is beyond the reach of mind, 

Too deep for thought to sound : 
The God we cannot know we trust, 

And at His feet are found. 

September, 1858. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 31 



CHRIST IX GETHSEMAXE. 

The Day gave place to Eve. and Eve to Xiglit ; 
The sun and heat to stars and cooling winds ; 
Labor to rest, and wakefulness to sleep. 
Jerusalem, beneath the Eastern sun. 
Had, scorched and thirsty, lain : and panted for 
The breezes, which, like cool-breath'd Angels. 

blew 
Around the city when the sun had set. 
The evening shadows fell. and. one by one. 
The stars appeared within the blue expanse. 
And sparkled in the undulating waves 
Upon the sacred sea of Galilee. 
The Moon arose, and shed a flood of light 
Upon the Temple, and the lofty towers : 
Upon the massive walls, and iron gates. 
The scene was wondrous beautiful, and they. 
Who saw it. worshipVl. 

From the star-lit sky 
Shone many a silvery ray. that softly stole 
Between the boughs and leaves of every tree. 
That spread its branches o'er Gethsemane. 
As countless moonbeams glided midst the flowers. 
They kissed each drop of dew that nestled there, 
And then the tears of Earth, like diamonds, 

shone. 



32 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The ripples that arose on Cedron'a brook, 
Broke with the faintest splash upon the marge, 
And gentlest gales the liquid music bore, 
And breathed it out around Gethsemane. 

Jesus had left His followers behind, 
And said : " My soul's exceeding sorrowful 
E'en unto death; abide ye here, belov'd, 
While I go hence and pray." 

A Cypress tree 
Rose darkly 'neath the moon, and Jesus there, 
Beneath its shade, fell on His face, and prayed : 
" My Father, if it be but possible, 
Let this cup pass away. 

Nevertheless 
Thy will, not mine, he done" 

Th' astonished stars 
Twinkled in upper air ; the wond'ring leaves 
Each other touched, and rustled o'er His head ; 
And all the dew-bathed flow'rets silent drooped, 
As if they listened ; Nature hearkened then 
Unto the wail of Christ's Humanity. 
With bloodless face, and agonizing soul, 
The Saviour from the dewy ground arose, 
And came to His disciples, but they slept. 

He sought the Cypress shade again, and moved 
By agony whose pangs were never felt 
By ruined Man, or fallen Seraphim, 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 33 

He cast Himself upon the earth, and cried, 
"Let this cup) pass away f" Then slowly rose 
Upon His knees, and lifted up His eves. 
The moonbeams rested on His face, and, lo, 
Great drops of blood oozed from His pallid brow, 
And trickled slowly down his ashy cheeks, 
And mingled with the dew ! He prayed again — 
His pale, uplifted face, the crimson tears. 
And His dread agony of spirit, prayed : 
"Let this cup pass away? 

The innate God, 
In that appalling hour, Humanity 
Gave strength to say, " Thy will, not mine, he 
clone? 

"What filled the cup that Jesus quailed to drink \ 
Mysterious draught ! Twas anguish deep, di- 
vine !" 

Before the vision of the Son of God 

The Judgment Hall arose ! The crown of 

thorns, 
The purple robe, and sceptre-reed appeared ! 
The scoffing throng that mocked and buffeted ! — 
The hill ! — the multitude ! — the rending rocks ! — 
The Temple's sunder d veil ! — the darkening sun ! 
And, lo ! the Sacrifice upon the Cross. 
In blood, and agony, and direst woe, 
Before the Son of God's prophetic gaze, 



64 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

All dreadful loomed, and haunted Him, like 

fiends ! 
While, like the densest thunder cloud, appeared 
The woe unutt'rable, which made Him cry, 
" My God! My God! Hast Thou forsaken 
me?" 

W TV" VT 7T 7T 

An Angel came to strengthen Jesus, and 

Gethsemane irradiated was 

By heav'nly light ; the kneeling form of Christ 

Within a glorious halo shone. He seemed 

A warrior wounded, yet victorious, 

The Man of Sorrows, and the Son of God ! 

1859-1860. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 



THE CEUC1FIXIOX. 

And they crucified Hirn. and parted His garments, east- 
ing lots, that it might he fulfilled which was spoken by the 
prophet. They parted my garments among them, and npon 
my vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down, they 

watched Him there Now from the sixth hour there 

was darkness over all the land, unto the ninth hour. And 
about the ninth hour. Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, 
Eli. Eli, lama sabachthani \ — that is to say. My God. my 
God. why hast thou forsaken me? ... . Jesus, when He 
had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. 
And. behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain 
from the top to the bottom: and many bodies of saints, 

which slept, arose Now when the Centurion, and 

they that were with him watching Jesus, saw the earth- 
quake, and those things that were doae. they feared greatly, 
saying. Truly this was the Son of God. — Mattubw. 



The sun in darkness shrouds himself. 

Obscuring all his rays : 
The quaking earth, astonished, views 

Unparalleled displays. 

The graves are opening, and thence 
Cold corses, that have lain 

In death's deep silence, re-appear. 
Alive on earth again. 



36 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The veil of Israel's Temple rends, 

As if in sore dismay ; 
The thunders 5 roar, and lightnings' flash 

Add terror to the day. 

Behold! on Calv'ry's fatal hill, 

A cross erected stands ; 
A God-like form suspended there, 

Of worlds the gaze commands. 

Well may the orb of day grow dim, 

Well may the dead arise ; 
For earth, and heav'n, and hell, are moved 

When God-incarnate dies ! 

They've nailed His hands, they've pierced His 
side, 
And bruised His noble brow ; 
They've mocked, they've scourged, they've cruci- 
fied, 
And He is dying now ! 

" Jehovah ! can this ever be ?" 

The wond'ring angels cry, 
" Among the host of heav'n, for Christ, 

Who would have feared to die ?" 

Who nails the Lord of Glory there ? 
Who will ? who dare ? who can ? 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 37 

From hell profoundest, demons cry, 
" TVe dare not ! it is man ! ? ' 



A radiant halo round the head. 
Pierced by the thorny crown. 

Reveals the awful gloom that reigns. 
And shows Jehovah's frown. 

It shines upon the hideous forms, 
"Who nailed Immanuel there, 

^Yhile, like incarnate fiends, they show 
Beneath the lurid glare. 

The Jewish women near the Cross. 

With eyes upturned, we see *, 
Their pallid faces, in that light. 

Express their agony. 

The multitudes around the hill 

Are almost lost in gloom ; 
They seem like shades that move within 

A dimly-lighted tomb. 

Hark! Jesus cries, "My God! my God! 

Hast Thou forsaken me P 1 
God heard the cry, and strengthened 

His own Humanity. 



38 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The blood forsakes His livid face, 

And light fades from His eyes ; 
But still, Divinity awhile 

The power of Death defies. 

'Tis past ! the mystic deed is done, 
And breathed Christ's latest groan ; 

'Tis finished ! an atonement's made, 
And Ruin overthrown ! 

in. 

For whom did Jesus die ? "Was't for 

The host, Jehovah's ire 
Had swept from heav'n, and doomed to writhe 

In darkness, chains, and fire ? 

Nay ! not for them. For Satan, then, 
Who in his strength might stand, 

If purged from sin, the leader of 
Jehovah's seraph-band? 

Nay ! not for him. But Christ decreed, 

(O wondrous, God-like plan !) 
To die for them who shed His blood, 

To give Himself for man ! 

1859-1860. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 39 



THE MANIFESTATION. 

For ye know that He was manifested to take away our 
sins, and in Him is no sin. — Johx. 

Scarcely for a righteous man will one die, yet peradven- 
ture for a good man some would even dare to die. But 
God commendeth His love toward us, in that while we 
were yet sinners, Christ died for us. — Pate. 

O groundless deeps ! depths beyond degree ! 
Th' offended dies to set th 7 offender free ! 

Q CABLES. 

Abyss unfathomable ! Love divine — 
As boundless as the attributes that shine. 
Harmonious, and glorious, Christ, in Thee, 
That meet resplendent in the Deity ! 
Mysterious love ! unsought — supernal, 
Uncaused and undeserved — eternal ! 
Self-sacrificing love ! a God in clay, 
To want, and woe, to shame, and death a prey ! 
O wondrous love of Christ ! 

Astounding sight ! Earth shakes, the Sun grows 

pale, 
And Darkness o'er the Vision throws a veil. 
The Temple of Jehovah rends in twain, 
And saints, long dead, appear alive again. 



40 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

They stand, near open graves, astonished, still, 
And upward gaze, appalled, at Calv'ry's Hill ! 
While Nature trembles at the sight, 
And Gloom usurps the throne of Light ; 
While massive rocks by fear are riven, 
And Death from his domain is driven, 
Dust crucifies its Animator, 
Yea ! crucifies the great Creator ! 
The creature laughs to see life's Author die, 
And echoes mockingly His anguish'd cry. 
Yet Christ, the Son of God, who could command 
A numberless, all-powerful angel band, 
To sweep His vaunting murd'rers from the world, 
Who could to deepest hell their souls have 

hurl'd, 
Uplifts His beaming eyes amidst the gloom, 
And prays for those who make His earth His 

tomb ! 
Yea, while they mock His agonizing cries, 
To save them from the hell they earn, He dies ! 
Then pale and bloody, He resigns His breath, 
And opens Glory's gateway by His death ! 

October, 1859. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 41 



JOY EN HEAVEK. 

There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over 
one sinner that repenteth. — Ltjxe. 

A waiting- Angel saw a sinner pray. 

And heard the penitential sob, then plumed 

His wings, and flashed, like lightning, through 

Ethereal space ; and then, ascending to 

The highest battlement of Paradise, 

He cried, while joj divine beamed in his eyes, 

And trembled in the music of his voice, 

" Ye ransomed hosts, and Seraphim, give ear l n 

The myriads of glorious beings heard, 
And ceased upon their golden harps to play. 
And all the choirs celestial hushed their songs. 
Silence pervaded heavii. Their eyes were fixed 
Intently on the Angel's tow'ring form, 
As on the height he stood ; and eagerly 
They listened for his tidings from the world. 

Erect the Angel stood — his form in light 

"Was bathed, majestic was his mien — and cried 

" A sinner hath repented of his sin ! 

Upon the earth our King is glorified : 

Ye hosts of heav'n, rejoice ! ye ransomed, sing ! 



42 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

lie who was dead — but lives and reigneth here — 
The travail of His soul beholds, and He 
Is satisfied. The powers of Death and Sin 
Are overthrown. Exultant anthems swell ! 
Archangels, Seraphs, perfect Spirits, join, 
To sound a universal jubilee ! 
Immanuel reigns, the King of Death and Hell ! 
Redemption is progressing ; strike your harps, 
Ye heav'nly choirs ! make heav'n resound with 
son^ !" 

The white-robed multitude, who list'ning stood, 

In adoration bowed their shining heads ; 

And, through the courts above, unbroken waves 

Of light effulgent seemed to undulate. 

The grand, reverberating hymn of praise 

Ascends. The harpers' souls out gush in strains 

Of music ravishing. The Angels w T ave 

Vials of odor full. Unnumbered crowns 

Upon the golden floor are cast, before 

The Throne ; while countless throngs seraphic, 

And the ransomed sing : " All hail, victorious 

Love ! 
Redeeming Love ! thy conquests bring to light 
A glorious Immortality. All hail, 
Incarnate Love ! thy power hath saved a soul 
From Satan's everlasting tyranny, 
From woe eternal in Perdition's Gulf. 
O Christ, for sinners slain, we worship Thee ! 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 43 

Thou art ' The Wonderful,' ' The Counsellor.* 
; The Prince of Peace,' ' The Tried, Foundation 

Stone,' 
' The Father of the everlasting age,' 
< The Mighty God !' O Christ, we worship Thee ! 
O ' Word,' who wast with God, and who God 

was, 
Thou ' Alpha and Omega,' i First and Last,' 
Thou, and Thou only, art adored in heav'n ! 
Jehovah ! Thou art worthy to receive 
3ur homage, to possess eternal power, 
With honor, wisdom, and immortal praise ! 
Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Amen !" 

January, 1S60. 



44 OOKN" IN THE BLADE. 



GOD. 

Art Thou not from everlasting, O Lord, my God, my 
Holy One ? — Habakkuk. 

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever Thou 
hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlast- 
ing to everlasting, Thou art God. — David. 

Thou art unmade — time never was 

"When Thou didst not exist ; 
Thou wast before the hills were formed, 

Or dew-drops flowers had kissed. 
When Earth was one chaotic mass, 

Before the sun had shone; 
When Satellites and Stars were blanks, 

Thou w T ast in space — alone ! 

Before the " blue ethereal sky" 

The void on high adorned, 
Thou wast the same, and, in Thy mind, 

All things that are were formed. 
Ere Sound was heard, when Silence reigned 

Supreme o'er all abroad ; 
When mother Earth was yet unborn, 

Thou didst exist, O God ! 

No Past to Thee ; no looking back 
Along the pathway trod ; 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 45 

Thy mind is one. eternal Sov\ 
* So vast art Thou, O God ! 

Unchangeable ! Thou canst not change ! 

Of wav'ring not a shade 
Affects Thy plans ; Thy purposes 

Firm as Thy Throne are laid. 

All things terrestrial fade away, 

Earth's beauties all must die ; 
But Thou, O God, shall ever be, 

And ever reign on high ! 
When Suns and Planets, Moons and Stars, 

"With all the world abroad. 
Have passed away, still Thou shall be, 

To everlasting — God ! 

May, 1858. 



46 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



GLOKYING IN THE CEOSS. 

Place a crown of gems on my brow, array me in robes 
of royalty, put a sceptre in my hand, seat me on a throne, 
and let a nation obey my nod. Empower me to chain the 
winds, and to hush the tumult of the waves. Let the 
lightning and the thunder be subject to my control — make 
me king of the elements. Endow me with an intellect 
between that of the highest archangel and the Deity, 
Himself. Give me ability to alter and re-arrange the 
course of the unnumbered worlds that roll in the infinity 
of space. Let me form universes by a wish, and kindle 
suns by a desire. Let all created intelligence, the inhabi- 
tants of earth, and the hosts of heaven, adore me. Then, 
in the plenitude of my power and majesty, let me think 
of Jesus, " who loved me and gave Himself for me," and, 
while my soul is inundated by a gush of gratitude and love, 
I would cry, " God forbid that I should glory save in the 
Cross of my Lord Jesus Christ !" • 

Exalt me to a position almost equal to that of the Eter- 
nal Son of God. From this sublime height, let me survey 
my dominions — number the suns with their stars, and the 
inhabitants thereof. Let me count my angel-servants and 
gather the cherubim around me. Then, O once crucified, 
but now exalted Jesus, look down ! — tell me that Thou 
didst die and bear the wrath of Heaven, that I might 
escape the pangs of hell, be freed from sin, and saved in 
glory — show me the mark of the spear in Thy side, the 
print of the nails on Thy hands, and the impress of the 
thorns on Thy brow — and, oh ! my precious Saviour! for- 
getting the vastness of my power and the glory of my do- 
minions, I would shout, as I beheld Thee, " God forbid 
that I should glory save in Thy cross, O Jesus, Saviour of 
my soul!" 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 47 

Let atheists and skeptics proudly scorn 
The Christian and the Author of his faith, 
We, who have felt the Gospel's hallowed power, 
"Will glory only in the Cross of Christ. 

Although the bodies of the boastful Paine, 
And proud Yoltatee, by worms have been de- 
voured ; 
Though men, like them, existing now. cry out 
? Gainst ; * superstitious creeds" in "Reason's 

• Age :*' 
Though haughty Rome into oblivion 
Hath, with the ages, gone ; though Empires sleep 
"Within eternal gloom ; though crowds of kings 
Have crumbled into beggar's dust ; and though 
A host of centuries have glided by 
Into the boundless, past Eternity, 
Of which Jehovah is the Fountain-Head, 
Yet, O immortal cross ! thy power is felt. 
To-day, e'en while I write, upon the earth. 
In Highest heaven, and in profoundest Hell ! 

When, on account of guilt, a sinner weeps. 
The people of the Lord, on earth, are glad, 
The Angels, and the Church triumphant, round 
The Throne of God, exceedingly rejoice, 
While Satan, and his foul, hell-born array 
Of demons, rage, and tremble, and believe. 

I860. 



48 COBN IN THE BLADE. 



THE TWO LOYES. 

How the divinity of the Saviour's love is manifested 
when we contrast it with the apparent love of men ! The 
latter is often only the development of hypocrisy, selfish- 
ness, or passion. The former is uncaused and undeserved, 
yet infinite, eternal, self-sacrificing, and unchangeable. 

All earthly love dotli change and fade, 

Like summer flowers ; 
"lis fickle, false, and only lasts 

A few short hours. 

It wreathes around the tender heart, 

With fibres strong, 
Then leaves it desolate, to sing 

A mournful song. 

"lis sweet to be belov'd, and sweet 

Love to return ; 
But blooming roses 'neath their leaves 

Oft hide a thorn. 

And even if it were not so, 

We still must mourn, 
For cherished objects from our grasp 

By Death are torn. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 49 

I know a never-changing Friend. 

Always the same ; 
He loved before the dawn of time, 

Christ is His name. 

He loves me now. and ever will, 

While ages roll ; 
For me He shed His precious blood, 

He saved my soul. 

"When, silent, cold, and motionless 

In death I lie, 
His love will bear my spirit up 

To joys on high. 

Oh ! then in Paradise I'll join 
The sacred throng, 



The ransom'd hosts, who sing His love — 
A ce 

December, 1S5S. 



A ceaseless song ! 



50 COEN IN THE BLADE. 



WHY HAST THOU NO FAITH? 

* Consider the lilies of the field how they grow ; they toil 
not, neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you that 
even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of 
these. — Jesus. 

My soul, God guides the crystal rain 

That falls on drooping flowers ; 
He cheers each blade of grass with dew, 

That shines in star-lit hours. 

His eye regards the lily's growth, 

And scans the " milky way ;" 
To Him an hour's a thousand years, 

Eternity a day. 

He guides the course of circling worlds 

Around unnumbered suns, 
And scoops the gurgling streamlet's source, 

That through the valley runs. 

He views the mighty angel-host 

Who bow before His throne, 
And when a little sparrow falls, 

To Him its death is known. 

He is arrayed in majesty, 
Eternal glories meet 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 51 

Above His throne, and lo ! they form 
A rainbow round His feet ; 

And yet He nnmbereth the hairs 

Upon His children's head ; 
And oh ! how precious in his sight 
Are all His chosen dead ! 

Art thou not better than the birds 

That fly upon the air ( ' 
Than lilies of the vale i They are 

The objects of His care. 

Be still, my trembling heart ! Why fear 
When waves of sorrow roll \ 

Canst thou not trust the love of Him 
Who died to save thy soul \ 

Survey the handiwork of God, 

Observe his minute care : 
And, if a single doubt remains. 

TJjilifl thy soul in prayer. 

October, 1859. 



52 COKN IN THE BLADE. 



I'LL TRUST IN GOD. 

Though He slay me, yet will I trust iu Him. — Job. 

For I am persuaded that neither life, nor death, nor an- 
gels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other crea- 
ture, shall be able to separate me from the love of God, 
which is in Jesus Christ my Lord. — Paul. 

Though fondly- cherished hopes are blighted, 
That once my dreary pathway lighted, 
And though I grope in gloom, benighted, 
I'll trust in God. 

Though sorrows gather darkly round me, 
A contrast to the joys that bound me, 
Though fiery trials do astound me, 
I'll trust in God. 

Though want and woe, combined, attack me, 
Though ev'ry grief, united, rack me, 
Though doubts and fears, like armies, sack me, 
I'll trust in God. 

Though long-continued sickness pain me, 
Though of my health and hope it drain me, 
Though with the hue of death it stain me, 
I'll trust in God. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 53 

Though all my earthly riches fail me, 
Though " summer friends " forsake and rail me, 
Though Satan and his host assail me, 
I'll trust in God. 

My Saviour with me sympathizeth, 
My every groan to Him ariseth, 
To cleanse and save me He deviseth ; 
I'll trust in Him. 

From Jesus nothing can me sever, 
Desert, or fail me He shall never, 
Tm His to-day and His forever ; 
Til trust in Him. 

April, 1860. 



54: COEN IN THE BLADE. 



SABBATH EYE. 

The following lines were composed at the close of a 
lovely Sabbath day in the month of September, on the 
banks of the lonely and romantic Saguenay, which flows 
from Lake St. John, throngh an uninhabited and moun- 
tainous region, into that most majestic of rivers, the mighty 
St. Lawrence. 

'Tis Sabbath eve, and all is still and calm — 
As calm as lie whose spirit rests in God, 
And never doubts his Ileav'nly Father's love. 
The soothing sound of rippling water falls 
Upon the ear. The soft and balmy air, 
With cool and gentle touch, doth kiss the brow, 
And plays with fingers soft among the hair. 
It waketh holy feelings in the heart, 
And sheds celestial peace within the soul. 
The clear blue sky, adorned with snowy clouds, 
In beauty stretches o'er the tranquil earth, 
And bows upon the distant mountains blue. 
The waveless water, shaded by the hills, 
And brighten'd by the setting sun, reflects 
The image of the azure sky. 

'Tis thus, 
My soul, thou should'st reflect in holy deeds, 
All prompted by the love thou bear'st to God, 
Thy Saviour's character divine. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 55 

The sun 
Gilds every cloud with crimson hues, and throws 
A track of silver light across the bay, 
And sheds a flush of glory o'er his couch 
Behind the hills. 

If thou hast faith in Christ, 
Like to the setting sun thy death shall be ; 
For Faith dispels the darkness of the tomb, 
And o'er Death's stream a flood of glory sheds, 
That shows the Christian's pathway into heav'n. 
Not so the skeptic's death. His exit from 
This life is wrapp'd in gloom, and not a beam 
Of light irradiates his grave. How dark 
And hopeless such a tomb ! The Christian's faith, 
As an illusion, is more glorious far 
Than Infidelity, e'en if 't were true. 
When Christians "fall asleep," the cheering hope 
Of future glory, like the ev'ning star, 
That speaks a morn, appears among the clouds 
That shade the close of life, and whispereth 
Of Immortality. 

The sun has set, 
And twilight shades are falling on the hills, 
While Nature has a thoughtful, dreamy look. 
The stars peep through the sky, to see if night 
Has come. The moon's pale, shining face ap- 

, pears 
Beneath a fleecy cloud, and countless stars 
Are sleeping in the waters blue. 



56 CORN IN THE ELADE. 

Silence 
Unbroken, save by rippling music low, 
Speaks to my soul, and whispers, " Worship God. 
lie made the sun whose glory makes the Day ; 
He formed the stars whose beams illume the 

Night ; 
He is the Source of Life ; thine intellect, 
With all its faculties, He did bestow, 
That thou His praise and glory shouldst proclaim. 
Thy heart, with all its sympathies, He gave, 
That thou His love and mercy shouldst declare. 
Thine eye beholds the beauty of His works, 
The grass, the buds, and blossoms of the Spring, 
The fruit, and foliage, and sky of June, 
The Autumn forests clad in leafy robes, 
Made bright, and rich, and sad, by gorgeous hues, 
The Winter's icicles, and fields of snow, 
The rising, noonday, and the setting sun, 
The Midnight's blue, ethereal plain, 
Where shines the Moon among the stars that 

burn, 
Till in thy soul immortal thoughts arise, 
That struggle for expression earnestly. 
And when in burning words thy thoughts ap- 
pear, 
How deep the joy ! how soothing the relief! 
'Tis God who gives expression. Speak of Him. — 
Be faithful to thy trust, for thou art watched 
By clouds of heav'nly witnesses unseen. — 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 57 

Be faithful, and thy soul shall never die, 
But in the world of thought shall live and act, 
When to the dust thy body hath returned. 
"When crowns have fallen from the brows of kings, 
And empires passed away, still shall the power 
Of holy influence, increase as time rolls on. 
In likeness of a widening, deepening stream, 
That floweth onward to the ocean's depths, 
Thine influence, a mighty sea at last, 
Shall roll upon the shores of Paradise, 
And on its tide bear thence a host of souls 
Redeemed from sin and hell by TIeawn through 
thee. 

Thou and thine influence immortal are ; 
Then to thyself, and to the human race, 
And to thy God endeavor to be true.*' 

I hear the distant sound of holy song 
Ascending from the cottage near the hill, 
And breaking on the stillness of the night. 
My deepest soul is moved. This solemn vow 
With the uprising hymn of prayer ascends : 
To Thee, O God! to man, and to myself, 
I will in thought and action faithful be. 

The night's advancing, ana my thoughts still 

flow, 
While silently my raptured eye beholds 
The deepening beauty of the lovely scene. 

3* 



58 COKN IN THE BLADE. 

The darken'd outline of the rocky hills, 
That gird the lonely Saguenay, appears 
In solemn beauty. The river's course is seen 
Among the moonlit mountains, flowing to 
The East. 'Tis like a strip of polished steel. 
The moon is ruddy, and her face half-hid 
Beneath a purple cloud. She sheddeth forth 
Cold rays of light, that mingle with the gloom 
Above the rugged rocks and tow'ring peaks, 
Where man hath never trod. No voice, save 

God's, 
Which speaks in thunder-storms, that mutter 

hoarse 
Among the hills, and echo loudly tnrougli 
The unexplor'd defiles, is ever heard. 
The deep, " mysterious " Saguenay is oathed 
In mellow'd light, and awful silence reigns. 

Ha! Ha! Bay, September t 1859. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 59 



THE PRESENCE OF CHRIST. 

The assurance of the Saviour's love is the fountain of 
peace that passeth understanding, of consolation which the 
world cannot give or take away, and of joy unspeakable 
and full of glory. This assurance constrains us to regard 
every trial as a disguised blessing, death as an angel darkly 
robed, and heaven as a glorious reality. A want of confi- 
dence in Jesus is the source of an anxiety which mantles 
Christianity in gloom, of a fear which engenders misery, 
and of foreboding which makes life burdensome, death 
dreadful, judgment terrible, and eternity appalling. Oh ! 
how supremely desirable to live the life of faith in the Son 
of God ! 

O Jesus ! Thy smile to my soul 

Is the sun to the day, 

That disperses the gloom 

With its gladdening ray. 
Without it, my soul is baptized 

In the depths of despair, 

But my sky is serene 

When thy smile shineth there. 

O Jesus ! Thy love to my heart 

Is the moon to the night, 

That illumines the earth 

With its silvery light. 
Without it, in darkness and fear, 

Oft I wander and fall, 



60 CORN m THE BLADE. 

Till Thine accents I hear, 
Like a fond mother's call. 

O Jesus ! Thy presence to me 

Is a heaven below ; 

When I feel I am thine, 

Joy of angels I know. 
But oh ! when Thy presence withdraws, 

How appalling the gloom ! 

Darkness shroudeth my soul 

In a desolate tomb. 

Then, rise on Thy glorious wings, 
Sun of Righteousness, rise ! 
Be the life of my soul, 
And the light of mine eyes. 

Immanuel ! reign in my heart 

Immanuel, reign ! 
Till the vict'ry is won, 
And the enemy slain. 

O Jesus! to Paradise then 
Undefiled I will rise, 
And lean on Thy bosom 
And look in Thine eyes. 

My Saviour ! whom have I but Thee, 
On earth, or in heaven ? 

1 sinned, Thou atonedst, 
And I am forgiven. 

February, 1859. 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 61 



PKAYEE. 



HUMILITY AND CONFIDENCE. 

"We should remember when we pray, that we are addres- 
sing God. This is often forgotten, and we, therefore, fre- 
quently engage in our devotions without feelings of solem- 
nity and awe. We should, also, in order to pray humbly, 
contrast ourselves both with what we ought to be, and 
with Him whom we worship. The need of Christ should 
be vividly realized; His proffered mediation gratefully ac- 
cepted, and implicitly trusted. This truth is clearly enun- 
ciated in that timely work, The Still Hour: "Christ, as 
the Atoning One, must be a reality to the soul, or prayer 
cannot rise to its full growth, as an experience of blessed- 
ness in the friendship of God." 

My soul, with reverence approach 

The audience-chamber of thy God ; 

The place is sacred, awful — none 

With thoughts profane, its courts have trod. 

Remember who, and what thou art, 
Behold the marks of guilt within ; 
"While seeking God, consider, that 
He drew thee from the pit of sin. 



62 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Upon His glorious character, 
His might and wisdom, ponder thou ; 
Think of his perfect holiness. 
And, in profound abasement, bow. 

In Jesus trust, who died for thee, 
And who is now thy Priest and King ; 
And, save the merit of His death, 
No plea for heav'nly favor bring. 

Thus, humbly, yet with confidence, 
Thou shalt in prayer to God draw near ; 
Thou'lt find it truly blest to pray, 
And Jesus will rejoice to hear. 

ii. 

definiteness and desire. 

We lose many prayers for the want of two things which 
support each other — specifcness of object and intensity of 

desire Let a man define to his own mind an 

object of prayer, and then let him be moved by desires for 
that object which impel him to pray, because he cannot 
otherwise satisfy the irrepressible longings of his soul ; let 
him have such desires as shall lead him to search out, and 
dwell upon, and treasure in his heart, the encouragements 
to prayer, till his Bible opens of itself to the right place — 
and think you that such a man will have occasion to go to 
his closet, or come from it, with the sickly cry, "Why, 
oh ! why is my intercourse with God so irksome to me V" 



DEVOTIONAL PIECE-. 63 



Such a man must experience, at least, the joy of ottering 
fill emotions which become painfull ^ssion.— 

The Still Baur. 

When unto Christ the ruler came. 
His spirit breathed unuttered groans. 
And pleaded through his earnest eye-. 
And supplicated in his tones. 

; ' My daughter ! Mastee !"' three short words— 
The trembling voice of hidden strife — 
The soul of Jesus moved, and He 
Restored the ruler's cl life. 



Pray with desires within thy soul. 
And fear not though thy words be few : 
God never listens to thy voice. 
He hearkens only onto you. 

Thy wishes search, and know that they 
Are all unselfish, true, and pure: 
Then yield them to thy Saviour's care, 

He pleads for thee, an answer's sure. 

Thv prayers will then be each VLjnnDer, 
To move Jehovah's heart and will ; 
Thv holy wishes hidden links. 
Uniting earth to Zion's Hill ! 

April I860. 



64 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



DEATH. 

While the Bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and 
slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold the 
Bridegroom cometh ! — Matthew. 

So teach ns to number our days, that we may apply our 
hearts unto wisdom. — Psalms. 

The world's a peopled burial-ground, 
The dying and the dead abound ; 
The quick among the dead draw breath, 
Yet die without a thought of death ! 
We gaze upon a marble brow, 
And o'er a rigid corse w^e bow ; 
We look upon the glassy eye, 
Then shed a tear, or heave a sigh, 

To think the voice we loved, no more 

Will greet us as in days of yore ; 

To think the footstep, known so well, 

Of glad return shall never tell ; 

But do w^e pause and think — " Death must 

Consign me also to the dust ; 

I must, like him, lie cold and low, — 

Am I prepared with Death to go f" 

If some one from another sphere, 
Should on this earth of ours appear, 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 65 

And view trie laughing, thoughtless crowd, 
Rush, heedless, to a common shroud, 
He would believe each mortal thought, 
" I have from death a ransom bought, 
And though my friends and neighbors die, 
Yet many live, and so shall I!" 

Our Father and our God, we pray, 
That thou wilt teach us, day by day, 
To think of death, of heaven, and Thee — 
To live for Immortality ; 
That all our lamps, well-trimmed and bright, 
May cheer our souls in Death's dark night ; 
That when we hear the " Bridegroom's " cry, 
We may have naught to do hut die. 

November, 1859. 



66 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



BIKTHDAY MEDITATIONS. 

Birthdays are milestones on the road of Time. This 
road leads through the Valley of Death to the Judgment 
Throne on the margin of Eternity. 

If you are young, how appropriate that you should sit 
down on the milestone, and, uplifting your eyes from the 
vanities of the world, exclaim, " My Father in Heaven, be 
Thou the Guide of my youth!" 

Pause, if you have reached maturity. Regard your past 
life, and the results of your existence. Consider the future. 
Think of death, judgment, eternity, and God. Remember 
that the journey of life is more than half completed, and 
that you soon must enter upon the unknown realities of 
the world to come. Now inquire, "Am I at peace with 
my Maker, through faith in the atonement of the incarnate 
God?" 

Are you an aged pilgrim on the road to Zion ? Then, 
lean on your staff, and think of the promises. Divinity 
breathes in this precious assurance: "Even to your old 
age I am He ; and even to hoary hairs will I carry you : 
I have made, and I will bear ; even I will carry, and will 
deliver you." Jesus speaks, and speaks to you in this con- 
soling promise : " When thou passest through the waters, 
I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not 
overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, thou 
shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon 
thee. For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, 
thy Saviour." 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 07 

A youthful traveller hath reached, to-day, 
A finger-post on life's uneven way, 
Which pointeth back to birth, and on to death, 
Which tells the years since first he drew a breath, 
But showeth not the time 'tween him and death. 

I have a year the less on earth to be, 

Mine eyes another year the less to see ; 

My brain that space of time the less to think, 

My soul another year the less to drink 

Deep draughts from Inspiration's sacred well, 

Where truths eternal and immortal dwell ; 

True knowledge from Creation's wondrous book, 

Which prompts for the Invisible to look, 

Whose attributes are never known aright, 

Save in the rays of Revelation's light. 

The Past is pass'd, the Present only's mine, 

For Death upon my pathway flies behind ; 

And I rush downward to an open grave, 

As on the tempest speeds a foam-capp'd wave ! 

Most solemn thought ! E'en while I live I die ; 

My life's a rose whose charms attract the eye, 

Whose leaves, to-morrow, scatter'd, wither'd lie ! 

A life of joy is but a fleeting day, 

From an eternal sun a transient ray ! 

A life of care is but a deep-drawn sigh, 

For liberty a captive-spirit's cry ! 



68 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

A life of mingled happiness and woe 's 

A passing cloud in which a rainbow glows ! 

Jehovah ! may I now my heart apply, 

To know Thee, as a Saviour, ere I die, 

That from the "wrath to come 1 ' my soul may fly, 

And live through all eternity thereby, 

Unlike the souls w T ho would, but cannot die, 

And both in earth and heaven Thee glorify. 

Thou art life's Fountain, I a trickling rill, 
Meand'ring down the side of Time's steep hill ! 
Thou art Eternity, I but a day, 
Yet hearken, for Thy Son's sake, when I pray ! 
Until the day of death, O may I strive 
To make the world believe I am alive ! 
Alive, to sympathize with men w 7 ho groan 
In honest poverty and grief — alone ; 
Alive, to utter hopeful words of cheer 
Which downcast mortals shall rejoice to hear; 
Alive, to wipe away the orphan's tears, 
And soothe the broken-hearted widow's fears ; 
Alive, to join in every effort made 
The cause of Truth and Liberty to aid ; 
Alive, to stem transgression's mighty flood, 
That bathes our universe in vice and blood ; 
Alive, to dissipate the gloom of night, 
Diffuse the radiance of celestial light, 



DEVOTIONAL PIECES. 6 ( J 

Disseminate the precepts of Thy Son, 

And bless the world until my course is run ! 

O God, bestow what for myself I crave, 

And from the power of sin Thy people save ! 

Then, Satan, angels fallen, heav'nly hosts, 

Will feel that Christians are not myths or ghosts, 

But living, acting, mighty sons of God, 

Who tread the pathway that their Saviour trod ! 

Then all the world in love shall worship Thee, 

Through Christ our Lord. Amen. So let it be ! 

December, 29th , 1859. 



PIECES ON NATURE 



PIECES ON NATURE. 73 



THEKE IS A GOD. 

For the invisible things of Him, from the creation of the 
world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead.— 
Paul. 

The fool hath said in his heart, "!N~o God." — Solomon. 

God wove each tiny leaf, 
Each op'ning bud, and blooming flower ; 
Each breeze that fans the brow of earth, 

Proclaims His wondrous power. 

God reared the mountains grand, 
The tow'ring hills that proudly rise 
In forms majestic o'er the clouds, 

To greet the spreading skies. 

God holdeth in His hand 
The thunder loud, and whirlwind strong, 
That bear destruction all abroad, 

With anthems loud and long. 

God guides the lightning's flash, 
That darts, like thought, across the skies, 
That, dazzling, shines from east to west ; 

At His behest it flies. 
4 



74 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

God called to the depths ; 
They flowed together at the sound ; 
They roared and raged ; they foam and swell 

He kept, and keeps them bound. 

God made the beauteous Moon, 
That floods the night with radiance pure, 
That bathes the world in silv'ry light ; 

Her course he 'stablished sure. 

God lit th' effulgent Sun, 
On Nature's birthday, with His eye ; 
He keeps it burning by His breath, 

Within the boundless sky ! 

The blue expanse of Eve 
God studded with the twinkling star ; 
He breathed ; lo ! the " Milky Way " 

Spread out in space afar ! 

All Nature I survey ; 
Where'er I look I still behold 
Assurance of Primeval Caiise, 

Uncaused and untold ; 

While in the Book I read, 
That he who views vast Nature's rule, 
And yet asserts that God is not, 

Must surely be a fool. 

1859-1860. 



PIECES OX NATURE. 



THE CONFLICT BETWEEN LIGHT AXD 
DAEKXESS. 

. . . Darkness was upon the face of the deep ; and the 
Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And 

God said. Let there be light, and there was light 

And God called the light, Day, and the darkness He called 
Night. And the evening and the morning were the first 
day. — Genesis. 

Silent through the gloom of chaos. 

Stole the pristine sunbeam's ray ; 
Smiling sweet, it kiss'd the Darkness — 

Darkness blushing, turned to Day. 

Midnight threw her sable mantle 
O'er the face of new-born Sun : 

Among the clouds the Moon appearing, 
Hoped that Light had victory won. 

Bright-eyed Sun the Moon regarded, 
(Darkness was too blind to see) 

Smiling then, her face he lighted, 
Gloom afraid began to be ! 

Paler grew the Moon while viewing 
Dismal plains where Gloom abode ; 



76 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Thus she pondered, " Shall the Darkness 
Yeil the light the Sun bestow'd ?" 

Thoughtful stars in silence wonder'd, 
Each one op'd her shining eye, 

Till a host of sparkling jewels 
Twinkled through the dusky sky ! 

Darkness could not bear these glances, 
Piercing through his inmost soul ; 

Gathering up his sable garments, 
From the conflict Darkness stole. 

" Yictory !" sang the hosts of heaven — 
" Yictory in the midnight hour ! 

To the world, by God created, 

Light hath shown her glorious power I" 

The " lesser lights " on Earth's birth-night, 
Fought and conquer'd Darkness blind ; 

For ev'ry night you may behold 
The shadow Darkness left behind ! 

Ha! Ha! Bay, September, 1859. 



PIECES ON NATURE. 77 



SUNSET ON THE OCEAN. 

A scene from the deck of the steamship Alabama, off the 
coast of South Carolina, May 25th, 1859. 

'Tis a calm summer eve, and the glorious sun 
Bows liis head on the sea, his course being run ; 
The blue waves beneath him unceasingly roll, 
Like an ocean of thought o'erwhelming a soul ! 
He looks like an angel — an angel of light — 
With pinions unfolded all radiant and bright ; 
While they, in their beauty, spread glory abroad, 
On an altar of crimson he worships his God ! 

The scenes all around him in loveliness glow, 

The ripples are lit as they murmur below ; 

And the dark clouds of purple are fringed with 

light, 
Forming curtains to hide the sun's chamber at 

night ! 
All glorious he sinks to his bed in the sea, 
To the bosom of Ocean inclasped is he ; 
His bright wings are folded, he's pass'd from my 

sight, 
And his couch is enwrapt in the shadows of 

night. 



78 COKN IN THE BLADE. 

I thought as I gazed, u It is thus too with man, 
His birth is the sunrise where being began ; 
His childhood is morning, his manhood, noon- 
day; 
His death is the sunset, when life's closing ray 
Streaks the sea of existence with flickering light, 
As a glimmering star the gloom of the night, 
Till the shadows of death do extinguish the flame, 
Then being is ended, and life's but a name !" 

This dark thought overpowered me — I then looked 

above — 
Stars twinkled in blue, each an emblem of love ! 
The beautiful moon o'er the sky softly stole, 
And silently whispered of hope to my soul ! 
Thus faith in the Saviour, and trust in His might, 
Floods the valley of death with a radiant light ; 
For Faith, like the stars that dispel the night's 

gloom, 
A halo of glory sheds over the tomb ! 



1'IECES ON NATURE. 79 



SPKING. 

King Fkost and Eing Sun are at war on the 

plain, 
And North winds, for King Frost, their energies 

strain ; 
But, aiding the Sun King, South breezes come 

nigh, 
And draw out a tear-drop from Frost-Monarch's 

eye! 

The Sun streameth down on his white, frozen 

head 
Him South winds caress on his fleecy snow-bed, 
Till now by their fervor his spirit is thrilled — 
With heat from their touches his icy soul's filled ! 

His cold heart is melted, and now, through the 
vale, 

It gurgles in streamlets, the earth to regale ; 

The streams become torrents which nothing re- 
strains, 

For Winter's heart rolleth, to melt Winter's 
chains ! 



80 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Behold the white mountains and snow-coverea 

hills 
Become the great fountains of thousands of rills! 
If Winter were weeping on each frozen peak, 
Pray, what better witness of grief should we seek ? 

Now all the dense forests, that, in the moonlight, 
Stood silent and ghostly, enshrouded in white, 
Have all their bare branches with liquid drops 

hung, 
Like jewels on dry twigs by queer fairies strung ! 

The rivers, from fetters of Winter set free, 
Flow, brightly and breeze-ridden, down to the 

sea; 
The ripples, unfrozen, break soft on the shore, 
In liquid tones singing, " Oh, no ! Nevermore I" 

The green grass beneath me, the blue sky above, 
Speak unto my vision of wisdom and love ; 
The delicate flowrets upsprung from the sod, 
Are unto mine eyesight, fair footprints of God ! 

The Sun and the South winds, victorious in 

strife, 
Thrill Earth, Winters old slave, with Liberty's 

life; 



PIECES ON NATURE. 81 

And change his cold fetters to nourishing streams, 
And fan him with breezes, and warm him with 
beams ! 

My soul was a captive, and Satan its King ; 
Christ freed me, forgave me, changed Winter to 

Spring ! 
I look for a Summer that never shall die, 
Jesus' presence its Sun, and His love its sky ! 

April, I860. 



4* 



82 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE EVENING SKY. 

The sky was like a waveless sea, 

A sea of deepest blue, 
From out the limpid depths of which 

Shone gems of radiant hue. 

The sky was like a curtain stretched 

Above the silent world. 
The Seraphs had, beyond the earth, 

The flag of heav'n unfurl'd. 

He unseen forms of angels lay 

Over the jewell'd skies, 
I knew they looked at me, because 

I felt their starry eyes ! 

A cloud, as white as snow, arose, 

And floated on the air, 
It sought the highest heights of heav'n, 

Like a believer's prayer. 

Ascending slow, it wooed a star 

Into its pure embrace ; 
I thought me of a gem that decks 

A robe of milk-white lace. 



PIECES ON NATURE. 83 

Who weaved the canopy of ]STight, 
And stretched it out on high ? 

Who hath upheld, through ages past, 
The pillars of the sky ? 

Who fixed the twinkling stars above, 

Like diamonds set in blue ? 
Who caused the marshalled hosts of heav'n 

To march before my view? 

I look'd above, no answer heard, 
For stillness reigned abroad ; 

But to my soul the silence said, 
" Thy Saviour is our God" 

1859-1860. 



84: CORN IN THE BLADE. 



FOREVERMORE. 

1 strolled along a river's side, 

When eve had chased the day away ; 
The first lone star had just appeared, 

The moon shone forth with soft, pale ray. 
I listened to the rippling waves, 

That gently laved the pebbly shore ; 
I thought I heard a still, small voice, 

That murmured soft, " Forevermore !" 

O mighty word! how grand! how vast! 

Higher than mind of man can soar ; 
A thousand years have passed away, 

The future is " Forevermore !" 
Our bodies die, descend to dust, 

But our immortal spirits soar 
Unto the great, white Throne of God, 
♦ To fix their fate " Forevermore I" 

In robes of white, with crowns of gold, 
Bought by the sufferings Jesus bore, 

We'll reign in glory with the Lamb, 
And sing His praise " Forevermore !" 

Or in the cavern of Despair, 
In anguish terrible and sore, 



PIECES ON NATURE. 85 

Confined, and bound with chains of sin, 
Forever ! aye ! " Forevermore !" 

The lone star fixed its eye on me, 

The whisp'ring wind the question bore 
To my own soul, " Art thou prepared 

To live forever — evermore?" 
I answered, "Yes !" in Christ I trust, 

On Calvary all my sins he bore ; 
In heav'n with Him I hope to reign, 

And bless his name " Forevermore !" 

Ha! Ha! Bay, July, 1858. 



86 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



STONE MOUNTAIN IN MOONLIGHT. 

I stood upon the mountain's brow, 

That tow'ring pile of stone ; 
The evening breezes round me blew, 

As I stood there — alone. 
The grey clouds, riding on the winds, 

Raced swiftly o'er the sky ; 
Beams streaming from the lamp of Night, 

I faintly conld descry. 

Beneath the flying, fleecy clouds, 

The stars were hid awhile ; 
But, as the clouds passed by, they would 

"Within the azure smile. 
The silv'ry moon was veiled, but now 

Her face serene appears ; 
The light she sendeth forth is like 

A maiden's smile through tears. 

The Rock in majesty doth rise, 

And, with a mien sublime, 
It soars above the clouds, that round 

Its summit strive to climb. 
The granite 'neath the moonbeams pale, 

Is silver'd with their light ; 



PIECES (Xtf NATURE. 87 

In lofty grandeur there it stands, 
A giant robed in white ! 

The trees, like spectral watchmen, guard 

Its lonely, barren side ; 
And, silent, through the leafy boughs, 

The moonbeams softly glide. 
The glitt'ring raindrops on each stem 

"With borrowed radiance glow ; 
They shine like little stars, and thus 

Their source of light they show. 

Unbroken silence reigned supreme ; 

Then, standing pensive there, 
I thought of Olive's lonely shade 

Where Jesus knelt in prayer. 
This mountain hath, through many an age ; 

The fiercest storms defied ; 
Thus, 'tis an emblem of the Rock — 

Christ Jesus crucified. 

Stone Mountain, Georgia, February, 1859. 



88 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE SKY AT NIGHT: 

A COLLOQUY BETWEEN OBSERVATION, FANCY, AND THE SOUL. 

Fancy often views an object in entirely different aspects. 
Fancy and Comparison behold in one thing a resemblance 
to many things, and discover, in the natural, the shadow 
of the spiritual. The one restrains and modifies the other. 
Fancy not only keeps Comparison from being mere matter 
of fact, but also imbues it with an elevated spirit — that 
a fine phrenzy" of which the immortal Shakspeare has 
written. Comparison, on the other hand, gives definite- 
ness to Fancy ; enables it to exalt the mind ; transforms it 
into a two-edged sword for the use of the orator, and into 
a fountain of power for the pen of the writer. Without 
Comparison, Fancy would be mere Ideality, and its pos- 
session would be undesirable, for its exercise would but 
bewilder. 

Fancy and Imagination are distinct. The former is but 
the play, the sparkle of the Intellect; the latter, the 
" faculty divine" — the spirit's vision — the power of con- 
ception — which enables a man vividly to realize an idea, 
or portray to himself the unseen. 

Obs. — To what wilt thou compare the sky at 

night, 
In which the stars appear so calmly bright, 
While snow-white vapors sail the blue expanse, 
And e'en the beauty of the scene enhance ? 



PIECES ON NATURE. $9 

Fancy. — The veil that hides the face of Heaven 

from view, 
While vet celestial brilliance shineth through ; 
A curtain pinned with gems of purest ray. 
Behind whose shade reclines the weary Day. 
God's royal robe of blue, with diamonds twined, 
Is Midnight's mantle to my raptured mind ; 
A waveless sea, where white-winged angels glide, 
"Whose eyes illuminate the dark blue tide ; 
An emblem of existence ! how sublime ! 
Each star a soul within the sky of Time ! 
A jewelled cushion for the Saviour's feet, 
Enthroned forever on the Mercy Seat : 
A volume bound in blue, each star a line, 
That speaks a Cause omnipotent, divine : 
And in the " Milky Way w where planets roll, 
I see the Author of the Human Soul. 

Ohs. — A Cause divine ? Pray is this Fancy's 

fruit? 
Or is it blossom sprung from Reason's root ? 

Soul. — Tis each, and both ; because if God, alone 
With Fancy had endowed me, she would own 
His being first ; but since Jehovah crowned 
My Reason king, then I am surely bound. 
By listening to myself, His power to own. 
O Thou ! to whom Eternity's a throne. 
Omnipotence a sceptre. Truth a crown. 



90 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

And Perfect Holiness a spotless gown ; 

Ancient of Days ! deep Love and Wisdom meet, 

A glorious Rainbow o'er Thy jasper seat ; 

Eternal Majesty enwraps Thy brow, 

And Thou shalt ever be what Thou art now : 

Great God ! in true humility I bow, 

I am, and, in my being, seen art Thou ! 

If Eeason said, " No God," then Fancy's voice 
Would cry against the mad apostate's choice, 
And drive him from his madness by her voice, 
But now, in God, my Father, both rejoice. 

If Fancy, freed from Reason, roamed abroad, 
She soon would fancy that there is a God ; 
For Fancy, viewing Nature's perfect laws, 
Would fancy the existence of a Cause ; 
And when their wisdom shone before her eyes, 
She would exclaim, "The First Cause must be 

wise;" 
And when she knew that, since their rule began, 
They have enlarged and blessed the soul of man, 
And furnished him with raiment and with food, 
She would declare, "The First Cause must be 

good ;" 
For He, in thoughtful mercy, plans has laid, - 
To bless the creatures whom His hand hath made. 
And when she saw these wondrous laws unite, 
To keep the course of mighty Nature right — 



PIECES ON NATURE. 91 

To guide a world through fields of ether blue, 
And feed a blade of grass with drops of dew — 
Without suspending action for an hour, 
She then would own the all-pervading power, 
The everlasting might of Nature's God, 
And tread the path that Reason always trod. 

1859-1860. 



92 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



STANZAS. 

I sat upon the moonlit shore, 
And listened to the rippling wave, 
That broke upon the rocky beach, 
While music rose from ev'ry lave. 

How calmly beauteous was the scene, 
That stretched afar before my gaze ! 
Like dreams the isles appeared, baptized 
In star-irradiated haze. 

The envious stars could not decide 
Who should the queen celestial be, 
So each, to view her radiant form, 
Into a mirror turned the sea. 

I gazed upon the spangled sky, 
God's jewelled robe it seemed to me ; 
I looked beneath, and, lo ! I saw 
Its lights reflected in the sea ! 

The vast expanse, bestud with worlds — 
God's lamps hung out from heav'n at night- 
Appear'd a shoreless, surgeless sea, 
Suffused with pallid, magic light. 



PIECES ON NATURE. 93 

How strangely calm ! how vast the scene ! 
Conviction thrilled my inmost soul, 
And, through my heart of hearts, a gush 
Of awe and veneration stole. 

" O God ! Thou art, for Nature is," 
The silent stars sang in the sky ; 
" O God ! Thou art, for Nature is," 
The heaving Ocean made reply ! 

1859-1860. 



HYMNS. 



95 



HYMNS. 97 



A WISH. 

The following unpretending verses were written by the 
author a few hours before he preached his first sermon, if 
a child's recommendation of Jesus might be so called, and 
sung, on that occasion, by the congregation. His age, at 
this period, was about fifteen years and three months. 

A holy wish my heart hath bound, 
To consecrate my powers to God, 
Salvation's trump aloud to sound, 
And preach His ever blessed Word. 

To show my Saviour on the Tree, 
The thorny crown, the pierced side, 
To urge my fellow-men to flee, 
And wash them in the crimson tide. 

To lead repentant souls to Christ, 
To hear them sing, with raptured joy, 
Hosannas loud to Him who died. 
To give them peace without alloy. 

To guide, to strengthen, and sustain 
The weak and weary by the way, 
To meet them all at Jesus' feet 
Upon the last, appointed clay. 



98 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Oh ! what a glorious work is this ! 
Oh ! what unworthiness is mine ! 
But for my weakness Thou hast strength, 
So all the glory shall be Thine. 

1858. 



HYMNS. 99 



HIS NAMES. 

What a study the names of the Saviour, and their signi- 
ficant import, are for the Christian mind ! When we think 
of the Redeemer as "Jehovah Jesus " — for Isaiah prophesied 
that he should be called "The Mighty God," and "The 
Everlasting Father " — we realize that He not only possesses 
all the moral attributes of the Deity, but that He is also 
infinite, eternal, and unchangeable. When we meditate 
upon Him as "Immanuel," we see Jehovah, "manifest in 
the flesh;" for the signification of the word is " God with 
us." When Jesus is considered as " The Man of Sorrows," 
we are not only assured that He most keenly felt the pangs 
of grief Himself, but, also, that he now sympathizes with 
all His people who are in any wise afflicted. 

" In every pang that rends the heart, 
The Man of Sorrows had a part ; 
He sympathizes with our grief, 
And to the suff'rer sends relief." 

When we behold Jesus as the "Lamb of God" — God's sin- 
less sacrifice for sinful man — we witness the price of our 
redemption ; and the scenes which transpired on Calvary 
arise in all their terror before us. The unmitigated dark- 
ness, the vail of the Temple in twain, the heaving earth, 
the rending rocks, the opening graves, the fiendish multi- 
tude, the far-off disciples, the women who loved the 
Saviour, the eminence, the three crosses, and the one 
Sacrifice, appear in all their horror and mystery to our 
mental vision ! 



100 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



" Tis finished ! the Messiah dies 
For sins, but not His own ; 
The great redemption is complete, 
And Satan's power overthrown." 

When Christ as the " Great, High Priest" who has entered 
within the vail, is the object of our contemplation, we re- 
member that He once was dead, and that He is now alive 
forevermore. The fact that He passed through the dread, 
mysterious portal of death, robs the grave of its terror and 
gloom, and sheds around it, to us who believe, a halo of 
glory. "We also experience the cheering assurance, that 
"He ever liveth to make intercession for us;" and that, 
because He lives, we shall live also. "For we are dead, 
and our life is hid with Christ in God. "When Christ, who 
is our life, shall appear, then shall we also appear with Him 
in glory." 

" As Jesus died, and rose again, 
Victorious from the dead ; 
So His disciples rise and reign 
With their triumphant Head." 

Jesus is our "All in All." He is the "foundation stone," 
the beginning, the continuation, and the consummation of 
our redemption. He is the Author of our life, the Pre- 
server of our health, the Soother of our sorrows, and the 
Author of every good and perfect gift. Faith in His 
atonement, resurrection and mediation, makes us partakers 
of the divine nature ; and the assurance of the possession 
of His love transforms our souls into fountains of celestial 
joy — " wells of water springing up into everlasting life." 
" For of Him are we in Christ Jesus, who of God is made 
unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and 
redemption." The Saviour is our "All in All" now, and 



HYMNS. 101 

we will find, beyond the grave, an immortality of blessed- 
ness in His presence and love. 

" Jesns Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and forever!" 

1860. 

HIS NAMES. 

Jehovah Jesus ! God adored 

By seraphs in the sky, 
I bow before Thy sacred throne, 

Before Thy Majesty ! 

Immaimel ! Incarnate God, 

In Bethlehem I see ! 
Ye angels look ! ye mortals gaze ! 

How great the Mystery ! 

The Man of Sorrows ! Nazarene, 
Whom sons of men despise ; 

A wand'rer on this weary earth, 
In poverty He lies ! 

The Lamb of God ! The Sacrifice 

Suspended on the tree ! 
He groans, He prays, He bleeds, He dies, 

To set His people free ! 

The Great, High Priest, who intercedes 

For us, before the Throne ; 
Who ever lives to plead for those 

Who trust in Him alone ! 



102 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Our All in All ! we will ascribe 
Honor and praise to Thee ! 

Let heav'nly choirs the anthem raise 
Throughout eternity ! 

July, 1858. 



HYMNS. 103 



OUK NEW YEAK'S GATHEKING. 

Written for, and sung by the children of the Sabbath 
School connected with the North Baptist Church, in the 
city of New York. 

Come, children of the Sabbath School, 

Come, and an off 'ring bring 
Of praise sincere to Jesus' name — 

Oh ! come, and sweetly sing. 
Sing, for the Shepherd of the lambs 

Hath led us through the past, 
With countless blessings crowned our heads, 

His arms around us cast. 

Come, children, and a tribute bring 
On this, our New Year's Gathering ! 

The Saviour came, and from our School 

Some lilies bore away, 
He planted them in heav'n above, 

To blossom there — for aye. 
Another year has swiftly gone, 

And, called by love divine, 
Some little ones have flown away, 

In glory bright to shine. 

And now in Paradise they sing, 
On this, our New Year's Gathering. 



104 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The Saviour came, and to Himself 

He called, with gentle voice, 
Same new-found lambs into His fold, 

They now in Him rejoice. 
Their hearts are filled with Jesus' love, 

Their lips proclaim His praise ; 
They, to Redemption's glorious theme, 

In songs their voices raise. 

And thus His wondrous love they sing, 
On this, our New Year's Gathering. 

For tender care, for grace bestowed, 

And loving-kindness shown 
Unto this day, — with grateful hearts 

Let us surround the throne. 
Oh ! let us join the ransomed choir 

Of children saved above, 
Who praise the Lamb on harps of gold, 

In realms of holy love ! — 

Oh ! let us join them as they sing, 
On this, our New Year's Gathering. 

December ', 1858. 



HYMNS. 105 



AN ANNIVEESAEY HYMN. 

Written for, and sung by the children of the Sabbath 
School connected with the North Baptist Church in the 
city of New York. 

Your voices, all ye children, tune, 

The choral notes of love to raise ; 

Let grateful incense from our hearts 

In silence rise to Jesus' praise, 

For He with blessings rich and free 
Hath crowned our Anniversary. 

While many children in the grave 

Asleep do lie, to wake no more, 

We, by the grace of God, appear 

On Hope's bright side of Death's dark shore. 

Praise God ! from death we all are free, 

On this, our Anniversary. 

We dwell where Freedom's planet shines, 
Though millions never see its light, 
And through our land the Gospel's voice 
Is heard in all its saving might. 

Let " Thanks to God!" our anthem be, 
On this, our yearly Jubilee. 
5* 



106 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Among our number many feel 
The power of Christ to save the soul : 
In glory they shall bless His name, 
While everlasting ages roll. 

" Redemption full ! Salvation free !" 
They sing, on this, our Jubilee. 

For Sabbath Schools we bless the Lord, 
For teachers faithful, kind, and true, 
But — hark ! Some angels catch the strain, 
And sweetly sing, " We join with you !" 
For they were led to Jesus here, 
And now they reign in heav'n's bright 
sphere. 

Your voices, all ye children, tune, 
The choral notes of love to raise ; 
Friends, teachers, all, unite to sound 
A joyful song to Jesus' praise ! 

Oh ! may it thus in glory be 

Our joy to hold a Jubilee ! 

June, 1859. 



HYMNS. 107 



EVENTFUL MOMENTS. 

Nothing but a vital faith in a living Saviour, a faith 
which manifests itself in uniting our souls to God, and in 
the constant performance of Christ-like actions, can pre- 
pare us fearlessly to meet the dread realities of Death, 
Judgment, and Eternity. Is this faith yours ? 

Evextful moment ! when our friends, 
Stand, sad and breathless, nigh, 

And gaze with tearful eyes, to view 
Their fellow-mortal die ! 

Eventful moment ! when the wave 

Of life breaks on the shore 
Of vast Eternity, whose coast 

The mind fails to explore ! 

Eventful moment ! when the mist 

Of time begins to fly, 
And great realities unfold 

Before the spirit's eye ! 

Eventful moment! when the throne 

Of God appears in sight, 
Unto a soul emerging from 

The gloom of earthlv night ! 



108 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

When glorious heaven and dreadful hell 
Are viewed by one, who knows 

That he must dwell eternally 
In endless joys or woes ! 

Eventful moment ! when the voice 
Of God to Judgment calls ; 

When Death, obedient, breaks the chain 
Which deathless being thralls ! 

O Jesus ! teach me how to die, 

Bestow the gift of faith, 
Which robs the grave of all its power, 

And triumphs over Death ! 

Then, O my soul ! Death will unite 

Thee to thy living Head ; 
And ope the gate of Paradise 

Where Death himself is dead ! 

September , 1859. 



HYMNS. 109 



THE VISION OF JOHN. 



A PAEAPHEASE. 



See the 21st and 22d Chapters of Revelation. 

I, Johx, a servant of the Lord, 
In Patmos' lonely isle was bound ; 

But Christ was there, and in His love 
Deep joy in banishment I found. 

He sent an Angel to reveal 

The glories of the upper sphere, 

Where countless hosts, like radiant stars, 
Throughout immensity appear. 

I saw Jerusalem descend, 

God's glory round the city shone 

Bright as a diamond in the sun ; 
Her light was like a jasper-stone. 

I then beheld twelve pearly gates — 

Twelve Angel-watchmen standing there ; 

How clear the wall's foundations were ! 
The silver Moon's not half so fair ! 

The wall was built of jasper-stone, 
O'er its bright surface Seraphs trod ; 



110 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

And streets of burnished gold adorned 
The glorious city of my God. 

No gorgeous temple met my gaze ; 

Where veiled Seraphim bow low 
Before the Throne, I only saw 

A spotless Lamb, as white as snow. 

He was their temple — at His shrine 
Were kneeling nations bathed in light ; 

And kings before Him prostrate fell, 
They owned His gentleness and might.* 

A river clear as crystal flowed 

From out the great white Throne of God, 
And rippling through the golden streets, 

Its murmuring music sent abroad. 

The branches of the Tree of Life 

Drooped o'er the peaceful, limpid stream, 

While, hanging in celestial light, 
The fruit in loveliness did gleam. 

And those who taste the leaves that wave 
Above Life's river, shall be healed ; 

The curse of sin these leaves destroy : 
This blessed truth the Lord hath sealed ! 

* Gentleness as the "Lamb of God," and "Might," as tbe 
victorious Saviour. 



HYMNS. Ill 

The saints who dwell in Paradise 

No candle need, or shining sun ; 
For in the light of Jesus' love 

A brighter glory they have won. 

That glory, like that glory's Source, 

Can never, never fade away ; 
The hosts who see His face, behold 

The sun of an eternal day ! 

" O glorious truth!" the Angel cried, 
" These sayings faithful are and true ; 

For I am sent these things to show 
To God's elect, by showing you !" 

Then adoration filled my soul, 

Before the Angel's feet I fell, 
And would have worshipp'd, but he said, 

" Arise, arise, thou dost not well ! 

" For I thy fellow-servant am, 

The prophet's pathway I have trod, 

And kept the sayings of this book : 
My brother, rise and worship God !" 

September , 1859. 



112 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



A WONDER. 

When we meditate on the depravity of our state by 
nature, and then remember that we now love Jesus, be- 
cause He first loved us, we are lost in amazement. The 
grace of God, as it has been, and is still manifested toward 
us, is entirely unaccountable. No reason can be submitted 
why the Son of God felt such a degree of love for a sinful 
world as to be constrained to die for its redemption. The 
most gigantic intellects, angels, and archangels, cannot 
solve the problem. 

While a believer rejoices in the assurance that the love 
of Jesus is exercised toward him, at the same time he 
wonders why it should be so. Confessing his inability to 
solve the mystery, he is ready to say of the Saviour's love 
what Job said of the nature of God: "It is higher than 
heaven; what can I do? It is deeper than hell; what 
can can I know?" Why, that the mountains shall de- 
part, and the hills remove, but His love shall never fail, 
nor be withdrawn from thee; for "the measure thereof is 
longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." 

The Son of God loved me, and gave himself for me. — 
Paul. 

O wondkous truth ! the Saviour loves 

A sinful worm like me, 
While angels bright surround His Throne, 

From sin's pollution free ! 
Surpassing strange that Heav'nly Love 

Should fold His wings o'er me, 



HYMXS. 113 

When Seraphs, clothed in robes of white. 
Before Him Lend the knee ! 

Yet stranger far, that Christ should leave 

His glorious throne above, 
And on our sinful world appear, 

To show His wondrous love ; 
That heawms great king and Sovereign Lord, 

The Ruler of the sky, 
Should come in human form to earth, 

And in a manger lie ! 

Despised among the sons of men, 

"The Man of Sorrows" He; 
His heart with grief acquaintance made, 

Because He loved me. 
My sins did pierce Immannel'a side. 

They nailed Him to the tree ; 
He wore a crown of twisted thorns, 

Because Ee loved me. 

O wondrous love ! transcendant grace ! 

How full ! how vast ! how free ! 
Behold the amazing sacrifice. 

He gave Himself fr/r me ! 
While everlasting ages roll. 

My God, I will praise Thee ; 
And, oh ! the story of Thy Love 

Will fill eternity. 

December^ 1S5S. 



114 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE WORLD'S ANTHEM. 

Though the world is influenced by Satan, it is yet the 
property of God, and as the purifying influence of the Gos- 
pel is extended, it will manifest clearer and more beautiful 
evidences of its Possessor's nature. 

Fkom ev'ry clime, in various tongues, 

A universal choir 
Harmonious sound the praise of God, 

And souls with joy inspire. 

Salvation's song from Albion's shores 

Is heard across the sea ; 
And strains from Ireland's isle arise, 

A glorious jubilee ! 

Sweet notes of love from Sweden's hills, 

Are wafted on the breeze ; 
And sons of Tell an anthem raise, 

That soundeth o'er the seas. 

Low whisperings from sable breasts, 

Arise to Gtfd's right hand ; 
For Christ rejoices when he hears 

A note from Afric's strand ! 



HYMNS. 115 

A joyful song ascends to-day, 
From rich, poor, bond, and free, 

"Who, on Columbia's shores, exult 
In Gospel liberty. 

Soon may the period come, (O earth, 

Roll quickly round the sun !) 
When all, who feel the Gospel's power, 

Shall be, in Jesus, one ! 

From ransom'd souls on China's fields, 

Salvation's song hath risen ; 
May China, glorious, soon emerge 

From superstition's prison ! 

These anthems mingle with the shout 

From India's sunny plains, 
Where swarthy sons of earth exult, 

Because the Saviour reigns. 

The angels hear the music of 

The universal choir, 
Then, simultaneous, strike their harps, 

And worlds with joy inspire ! 

November ', 1859. 



116 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



TO THE MISSIONAEY. 

The life of a devoted Missionary is one of the truest 
manifestations of the spirit of Jesus. The blessed Saviour 
left the delights and glories of heaven on a mission of mercy, 
prompted by love for a ruined world. The Christian Mis- 
sionary, constrained by the same spirit, forsakes his coun- 
try, friends, and home, and departs to bear the glad tidings 
of salvation to those who sit in the darkness of heathen- 
ism. If we had existed and loved the Saviour when He 
was on earth, would we not have supplied His every want ? 
"Would He ever have suffered from hunger, thirst, and 
exposure, if we had possessed a crust, a cup of water, and 
a hut ? Never ! The Missionary is, in a peculiar sense, the 
representative of Christ, and shall we, who love the pre- 
cious Saviour, ever allow His peculiar representatives to 
suffer anxiety on account of the wants of themselves and 
their families? No ! we will provide for them, as we 
would have provided for Jesus. Oh ! that this were the 
language of Christendom ! 

Thott herald of the Cross, arise, 

And leave thy native shore ; 
The Saviour left His Father's breast, 

A cross for thee He bore. 
Exalt a dying, risen Christ, 

For sinners slain and raised, 
Till, by a dark, benighted soul, 

His wondrous love is praised ; 



HYMNS. 117 

Till songs from countless multitudes 

Of ransomed ones ascend, 
Till ev'ry knee, at Jesus' name, 

In penitence shall bend ; 
Till angels swell the choral notes, 

Till heav'n's high arches ring, 
Because the distant isles have crowned 

Christ Jesus Lord and King. 



*• 



Fear not, thou servant of the Lord, 

Oh ! never be dismayed ; 
Should He who standeth on the Rock 

Of Ages be afraid ? 
Thy heart should never know a fear, 

Or dread an evil day, 
Since Jesus to thy soul hath said, 

" I am with thee alway." 

Then faint not, soldier of the Cross, 

The Captain's near thy side, 
To guide and cheer, defend and bless ; 

No evil can betide. 
Oh ! falter not! The great reward 

Is worthy of the pain : 
The bitter cross must first be borne, 

The glorious crown to gain. 



118 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Thy crown is souls redeemed from sin, 

Each soul a gem of light, 
• Whose value far exceeds the stars 

That glitter in the night. 
Oh ! what a glorious crown to cast 

Before the Saviour's feet, 
When, in the Paradise of God, 

Our Saviour thou shalt meet. 

February , ,1859. 



HTILN'5. Ill) 



AX APPEAL. 

I 

The sympathies of Jesus were universal. Degradation 
in all its forms, and woe in every aspect, moved His tender 
heart. He never restrained His feelings, but allowed them 
to prompt Him to action. " Though he was rich, yet for our 
sakes He became poor, that we through his poverty might 
be made rich. "He appeared on earth, the divine, martyr 
Missionary, accomplished His work, sealed his testimony, 
and consummated the plan of Redemption by the shedding 
of His blood. The Gospel which He proclaimed, the only 
means by which the world can be regenerated, has been 
committed to our care. Shall, we by sinful indifference, 
limit its redeeming influence, and thereby strengthen the 
kingdom of Satan ? God forbid ! Let us remember and 
succor the millions that lie in the darkness of superstition, 
awaiting the dawn of divine truth. Let us bear the Gospel 
to the heathen ourselves, or send, or help to send, a 
Missionary in our place. 

M Ye who the name of Jesus hear, 
His sacred steps pursue, 
And let the mind which was in Him 
Be also found in you.'' 

I hear a voice from heathen lands. 
The Macedonian cry comes o'er 
The bosom of the heaving sea. 
And soundeth on Columbia's shore. 



120 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

It tells of darkness, Stygian gloom, 
Which everlasting being shrouds, 
Of superstition's blinding veil, 
Which wraps the Deity in clouds. 

It speaks of souls, undying souls, 
Descending swiftly down to hell, 
While in the Paradise of God 
A host of ransomed spirits dwell : 
While Jesus left us this command, 
" My wondrous love proclaim to all, 
Glad tidings preach to ev'ry soul, 
Who breathes on this terrestrial ball." 

Awake ! ye ransomed of the Lord ! 
Arise ! Arise ! in Jesus' name, 
And consecrate your prayers and wealth. 
His blessed Gospel to proclaim ! 
Uphold the Missionary's hands, 
Inspire, by acts of love, his heart, 
Inflame his soul w^ith Christ-like zeal, 
By bearing^each and all, your part. 

But leave him not alone, to pine 
For sympathy, for prayers, and bread, 
Lest God in dreadful vengeance hurl 
His curses on your guilty head ; 
Lest all the angels weeping stand, 
In silent, infinite surprise; 



HYMNS. 121 

Lest ev'iy harp in heav'n be hushed, 
And boundless wonder fill the skies ; 

Lest anguish thrill again the heart 
Of Him, who, for our ransom, died ; 
And He, in agony, repent 
That ever He was crucified ! 
Awake ! Awake ! O Church of God ! 
The Gospel's trailing banner raise, 
And let it wave o'er ev'iy land, 
Till earth resounds with Jesus' praise. 

1859-1860. 



JOY IN SORROW 



LIFE IN DEATH 



123 



JOT IN SOEEOW. 125 



THE SEPARATION. 



The incident, which prompted the following lines, tran- 
spired in the Spring of 1859, when the Georgia Baptist 
Convention, which had convened in the beautiful city of 
Columbus, and enjoyed a blessed session, was broken up. 

The aged saints of God had met in peace, 
And in His holy house, with prayer and praise, 
Rejoiced. And in communion sweet 
Around the fireside, at the twilight hour, 
And in the evening, underneath the shade 
Of trees, that rise below the Southern moon, 
They had refreshed their souls. But now they 

stand, 
An ancient group, within the sacred walls. 
The parting hour has come, and ev'ry heart 
Yields gently to its sad, soul-moving sway. 
They grieve and hope in perfect unison, 
And seek and find the Saviour's sympathy. 
They feel the need of faith, they realize 
Its power ; and ere they separate, they pray. 

A hoary -headed saint, whose calm blue eyes 
Shone with an earnest light through falling tears, 
Before the Throne of Grace, upon his knees, 
In adoration bowed; and, spreading out his 
hands, 



126 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

And lifting up liis weeping eyes to heav'n, 
lie, in a voice of awe, deep, thrilling, low, 
Communed and pleaded with the Deity. 
And, while his soul arose, the silent prayers 
Of all around were wafted to the Throne ; 
And Jesus, as they rose, inhaled them there, 
And, pure, He breathed them out to God, who 

sat 
Upon a universal Mercy-seat, 
And, smiling, hailed His well-beloved Son ! 

The answer came as struggling sunshine falls 
Upon an April day, till Nature smiles, 
And all her raindrop-tears, like jewels, shine. 
The aged saints arose. Their faces shone 
Like Moses' on the Mount ; victorious faith 
And Christian love, spoke through their earnest 

eyes — 
The mirrors of the human soul, by which 
The silent spirit eloquently speaks. 

They now must part. Oh ! shall they ever kneel 
Together round the Throne of Grace again ? 
Shall their united voices ever rise 
From earth once more? Before a year has 

passed, 
Shall not a form familiar lie asleep 
Within the tomb ? They stood, and sadly 

gazed, 



JOY IX SOEEOW. 127 



AVith speaking eves, on one another's face ; 
They gazed, till coursing down their wrinkled 

cheeks. 
The tear-drops fell. The strong men wept aloud, 
For neither faith nor love could take away 
The grief of parting from their swelling hearts. 
Yea. in the fullness of that sacred hour. 
They threw their arms around each other's neck. 
And sobbed a last farewell. lt Farewell/'' they 

said. 
Then sad and silently, thev turned awav. 



O three times blessed thought! In Paradise 
They shall united be, to part no more. 
Then from their eyes the Lord shall wipe away 
The tears of woe : then Jesus' smile shall dry 
The marks of grief ; then shall their hoary hairs 
Be changed into bright, immortal crowns. 
Their eyes shall beam with everlasting joy ; 
Their bodies like to Christ's shall be transformed ; 
Arrayed in spotless white they shall appear ; 
And, holding in their hands their harps of gold, 
Shall praise the Lamb of God forevermore ! 

1S59. 



128 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF A PASTOR. 

Rev. A. Kingman Nott, the young and talented pastor 
of the First Baptist Church in this city, passed into the 
land of the living on July 7th, 1859. "We who remain, 
are yet in the land of the dying. 

The departed was greatly and justly beloved. Though 
flattered on every hand, his deportment was unassuming, 
and truly humble. His countenance was the index of his 
soul, and its expression spoke of gentleness and amiability. 
He had a kind word and look for all, and, consequently, 
won the affection of every honest heart. 

As a pastor he was eminently successful. If ever a young 
servant of Christ had bright prospects of future usefulness, 
well-founded hopes of being instrumental in the upbuild- 
ing of our Redeemer's cause, it was the departed. 

At the time of his decease he was only twenty-five 
years of age. How young to die ! How strange that God 
should have taken him away! If an aged warrior had 
fallen, we would not have wondered, but when a Christian 
soldier, young, energetic and brave, is removed, we think 
the dealings of Providence mysterious. 

DEDICATED TO THE MEMBERS OF THE FIRST BAPTIST 
CHURCH. 

Jehovah's path is girt with clouds, 

And deepest darkness shrouds His throne ; 

The thoughts, the plans, and purposes 
Of God, are known to God alone. 



JOY IX SORROW. 129 

Yet, though the darkness mocks our gaze, 
And veils the path we seek to trace, 

We know, that angel Mercy flies, 
With radiant wings, before His face. 

To Calvary's Cross the Angel points, 

Where Jesus died to save His sheep ; 
And, looking down, she drops a tear, 

To see the flocks bereaved that weep. 
Then, mourners, fear not, Mercy pleads, 

Compassion dims her weeping eye ; 
If Christ is love, and Christ your friend, 

Have faith, Himself He'll not deny. 

Beloved in Christ, your hearts are sad, 
Your pastor's sleeping in the grave ; 

Yet, murmur not, but humbly say 
" God taketh only what He gave." 

Ye sorrow o'er his lifeless corse, 
Ye weep, for dust to dust is given ; 

But let your souls in hope rejoice, 
His ransomed spirit's safe in heaven. 

The hallowed pulpit's vacant now, 

Where oft his head was bowed in prayer ; 

The very loneliness proclaims 

To ev'ry heart, "He is not there? 

His peaceful eye, his noble brow, 
His youthful form lie cold and low ; 
6* 



130 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

And weeping Faith can scarce confess, 
u 'Tis better that it should be so" 

His voice within the old church walls, 

The Sabbath silence breaks no more ; 
And Sorrow broods with folded wings, 

Where Hope exultant reigned before. 
And yet no grief, no sense of joy, 

No ease, without first anxious care ; 
No death, no life beyond the grave, 

No parting here, no meeting there. 

Among the blood-washed throng, by faith, 

Your pastor, near the Throne, I see, 
And, in a glorious halo wrapt, 

A hoary head appears to me /* 
Wait, toil, and pray till Jesus calls, 

And then upon the heav'nly shore, 
You'll meet the pastor of your hearts, 

With all the loved ones gone before. 

1859-1860. 

* An allusion to the sainted Cone, who was pastor of the 
First Church, previously to Mr. Xott. 



JOY IX SORROW. 131 



THE LITTLE 3IAIDEX. 



I loved a little maiden. I thought that .she loved 
me, 

I thought I saw love beaming through her bon- 

nie, dark blue e'e ; 
I thought I heard love whisper in the tremor of 

her voice. 
Like sighing summer breezes, that make the 

woods rejoice. 



I loved a little maiden so deeply and so free. 
But love no longer beameth through her bonnie. 

dark blue e ? e, 
To me and earth it's glassy, and it will not shine 

again. 
The maiden has departed from earth, and sin and 

pain. 

The little maiden's body lies 'neath a shady tree. 

"Where faintly sounds the murmur of the rolling, 
deep, blue sea, 

In calmest nights I wander there when moon- 
shine's on the lea. 

The stars bring to remembrance the beaming of 
her e'e. 



132 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The little maiden's spirit rests in sereneness now, 
Her eye, with peace, is beauteous, and unshaded 

is her brow, 
Her voice, so low and silv'ry, maketh music in 

the sky, 
The little maiden liveth, though dead, she did 

not die. 

Of her fair robe the pureness vies with her bosom 

white, 
Her angel-form is gliding throughout the fields 

of light, 
And beams of heav'nly beauty illume her holy 

face, 
The beams are light reflected from Christ the 

King of grace. 

A never fading garland entwines her snow-white 

brow, 
She standeth in His presence before whom angels 

bow; 
I look through heaven's windows — the twinkling 

stars of night — 
To me the maid appeareth, crowned, beautiful, 

and white. 

April, 1859. 



JOY 1ST SORROW. 133 



LOVE TESTED. 

It matters not how deeply we love, we are sure to 
realize the extent of our affection more vividly when sepa- 
rated. Perhaps the cause of this is, that we are unable so 
fully to manifest our love when apart, as when united. 
However this may be, we know that death will test the 
nature of all our attachments, and nothing, save the belief 
in a future state of happy reunion, can fill the void caused 
by the removal of one, much beloved, and fondly cher- 
ished. How supremely should we love our Lord and Sav- 
iour Jesus Christ, "who hath abolished death, and brought 
life and immortality to light through the Gospel!" 

We know we love when we imprint 
A kiss upon the loved one's cheek, 

And see the dark, uplifted eye 
Of passion and affection speak. 

We almost know how much we love, 

When from our loved one forced to part ; 

For then the tendrils stretch that bind 
The loved one closely to our heart. 

We think we know how much we love, 
When, kneeling by the loved one's side, 

We watch, with unbelieving eyes, 
The ebbing of existence' tide. 



134 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

We say we know liow much we love, 
"When gazing, tearless, on the form 

Bereft of life and thought by death, 
As trees of blossoms by a storm. 

We never know how much we love, 
Till standing, weeping, near a tomb, 

We see the lifeless form consigned 
To dust, oblivion and gloom. 

For, ah ! in that sad moment we 

Forget the form is only clay, 
And that the spirit never knows 

Annihilation or decay. 

There is a land, afflicted soul, 

Where hearts by grief are never riven ; 
" Good-bye !" or "Dead !" is heard no more, 

That land, afflicted soul, is heaven ! 

Then, oh ! when sorrow clouds thy brow, 

And agonizing is thy heart, 
Think of the land where angels sing, 

" We love, but never, never part !" 

March, 1860. 



LIFE IN DEATH. 135 



TO A DYING OKPHAK 

Thou art passing, gentle Annie, 

From the vale of tears, 
Watered by the stream of sorrow, 

Shaded by our fears, 
To the land of fadeless glory, 

Where no clouds arise 
Along the infinite expanse, 

Darkening its skies. 

Thou art passing, patient Annie, 

From thy couch of pain, 
To the land where weary mortals 

Never sigh again ; 
Where no sick ones ever languish 

Through the night or day, 
For sin and death from Life's domain 

Banished are, for aye. 

Thy cheek thai bloomed is pale, Annie, 

Snow-white is thy brow ; 
From thine eyes the light is fading, 

Death is near thee now. 
Like a star that disappeareth 

In- the distant west, 
Thou art passing, calm and peaceful, 

To eternal rest. 



136 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Thou art passing, dying Annie, 

From thy friends below*; 
They are mourning round thee, Annie, 

Sobbing in their woe ; 
While thy father and thy mother, 

On the heav'nly shore, 
Wait thy coming, there they'll call thee 

" Orphan girl " no more. 

When thou ent'rest Death's dark valley, 

Christ shall give thee light, 
Glory's gate unto thy spirit 

Shall be Death's dark night. 
He who died and rose triumphant, 

Shall disperse the gloom ; 
On the mystic way to glory, 

Lead thee through the tomb. 

Clothed in robes of snowy whiteness, 

There shalt thou appear, 
And thine eyes, beholding Jesus, 

JsTever shed a tear. ■ 
There the Lamb shall lead thee, Annie, 

Through the pastures green, 
By the river, clear as crystal, 

Eye hath never seen. 



x 



LIFE IX DEATH. 137 

The moon shines o'er thy grave. Annie, 

Evening breezes sigh 
Through the little, quiet churchyard, 

Where the dead ones lie. 
There I strolled when falling shadows 

]\Iantled earth in gloom, 
When, from boundless ether, planets 

Twinkled o'er thy tomb. 

And I sadly mused. Annie, 

On the visions bright, 
Fancy painted in thy future, 

Shrouded now in night. 
Knelt I weeping in the churchyard, 

On the dewy sod ; 
Angels whispered — "Annie resteth 

On the breast of God/' 

1859-1860. 



138 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE DEATH OF SISTEK MAEY. 

TO H. C. 

As a murm'ring, sun-lit ripple 
Breaks upon the white sea-sand, 

Broke the life- wave of my sister 
On this shaded, earthly strand. 

As a star that gently fadeth 

From its station in the sky 
When the light of morning dawneth, 

So did darling Mary die. 

As the sun reclines in slumber 

On the bosom of the sea, 
Traces of his beauty leaving, 

Which proclaim he yet shall be ; 

So my gentle, blue-eyed sister 
Faded from the shore of Time — 

Passed serenely through the gateway 
Of Eternity sublime. 

When the wings of Death's dark angel 
On her brow a shadow threw, 



LIFE IN DEATH. 130 

-Jesus' love her face illumined, 

And the shade of Death withdrew. 

Patient, little Mary waited 
Calm and peaceful to the last, 

Then a cloud of glory veiled her, 
Smiling into heav'n she passed. 

Rest thee ! rest thee ! darling sister, 

On thy Saviour's bosom rest! 
Hush, thou wounded heart, thy mourning, 

Mary is forever blest ! 

June. 1S59. 



140 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



IS SISTEK MARY DEAD? 

Judging from observation, one would readily imagine, 
that many who profess to believe the doctrines of Christ- 
ianity, regard death as something nearly equivalent to 
annihilation. We hear bitter lamentations over hus- 
bands and wives, parents and children, lovers and friends, 
said to be in the grave, when nothing, save their mortal 
remains, the dust which the deathless spirits left behind 
them, is in reality there. Death only ushers us into a dif- 
ferent state of existence, the great characteristic of which, 
is its absolute spiritualness. Our loved ones, who have 
passed from earth, are still alive, and that in a truer and 
more comprehensive sense. If they trusted in the Son of 
God, they not only exist, but are supremely blessed in the 
enjoyment of a glorious immortality. 

For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to 
depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better. — Paul. 

Jesus said unto Martha, I am the Eesurrection and the 
Life, he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet 
shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me, 
shall never die. Believest thou this ? — John. 

Thy voice is hushed — the lovely voice, 
That laughed so joyously and free, 
Is hushed, my Mary, in the grave, 
It never more will gladden me. 

Thine eye is dim — that sparkling eye, 
So bright, so beautiful and fair, 
Is cold and glassy now in death, 
ISTo loving light for me shines there. 



LIFE IN DEATH. 141 

They laid thee in thy narrow bed, 
Thy bed beneath the cold, damp ground : 
I sought thee in thy little grave, 
Thy dust, not Mary, there was found ! 

I drew aside the veil that hangs 
Between ns and the spirit-land ; 
I gazed into the tipper world, 
And saw thee shining on its strand ! 

Thy robe was w T hite, and on thy head, 
There shone a glorious crown of gold ; 
Thine eye, once dim, was full of light, 
For Jesus then thou didst behold ! 

And in thy hands I saw a harp, 
Whence sounded music sweet and calm ; 
I heard the voice I loved on earth, 
Ascribing praises to the Lamb ! 

Within the portals of the tomb, 
Thy body motionless may lie ; 
And yet my Mary is not dead. 
She who believes can never die ! 

Sister, farewell ! thou art not lost, 
Ah, no ! but only gone before ! 
Wait for thy brother till he comes, 
To meet thee on the " shining shore !" 

December, 1858. 



142 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



BROTHER CHARLEY. 

If there were no other text in the Bible having reference 
to the minuteness and extent of our knowledge in the 
future, the following, alone, is sufficient to convince us, that 
we shall recognize those with whom we have associated 
on earth. Paul said of himself, u Now I know in part ; 
but then I shall know even as also I am known" If the 
Apostle meant us to understand, as he doubtless did, that 
he would know, as he then was known to God; and if we 
may expect to possess this knowledge with the Apostle, 
how can we for a moment suppose that there will be no 
recognition in heaven ? If such were the case, would we 
then know as we are known ? 

They who believe in no future recognition, urge, that 
if we recognize friends in heaven, we will also lament those 
who fail to reach that blessed place. In answer to this, 
we inquire, will a glorified saint feel, that the soul, which 
has deliberately sinned, during the whole period of its pro- 
bation, against his Saviour, is, because of a relation once 
sustained in the flesh, bound to him forever by the ties of 
friendship ? The enemies of Christ, though now related to 
Christians, are not their truest friends. But how much 
less after every earthly connection has been dissolved. 
" For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given 
in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven." 

The loved one of my heart is gone, 

The noble and the brave ; 
And now the flowing tears fall fast 

Upon my brother's grave. 



LIFE IN DEATH. 143 

They laid thee in the burial ground, 

To slumber all alone ; 
I often seek thy grave, but oh ! 

My brother, thou art gone ! 

I sometimes hear thy voice in dreams, 

Speak of the realms above ; 
And whisper to my drooping soul, 

Of peace, and joy, and love. 

I would not draw thee back to earth, 

For thou'rt supremely blest ; 
I would not call thee from the land, 

Where all the weary rest. 

Thou mayst not leave thy heav'nly home 5 

And come again to me ; 
But, brother, when the Saviour calls, 

I will inquire for thee. 

When I approach the pearly gates, 

From death and sin set free, 
I'll gaze among the w T hite-robed throng, 

To catch a glimpse of thee ! 

When angels from the earth return 

With songs of jubilee ; 
When all the ransomed shout for joy, 

O brother ! look for me ! 

1858-1859. 



144 COEX IN THE BLADE. 



A CHILD'S VOYAGE TO HEAVEN. 

AN ALLEGOEY. 

The " tin j vessel " is the soul of the child, and the " mys- 
tic sea " is the life of which he is scarcely conscious. The 
" sun of Life's fair morn " is the child's delightful assurance 
of existence, and the-" breezes " are joys, the influence of 
which he feels. The "snowy sails " are the principles of 
his soul, which are supposed to be acted upon by joys, as 
sails are affected by the winds. The " heav'nly vision," is 
the glimpses of Paradise which are found in Eevelation, 
and "the winds," and "wild waves," are sorrows, fears, 
and temptations. The remainder of the similes will be 
easily understood. 

A tiny vessel sailed upon a mystic sea, 
She just had left the port of dreaming Infancy ; 
The gale of Time exhaled its unresisted breath, 
To waft the little ship toward the Straits of 
Death. 

The sun of Life's fair morn shone brightly on the 

sea, 
The breezes rode the waves, that swelled and 

rippled free, 
They filled the snowy sails, that bore the ship 

along, 



LIFE IX DEATH. 145 

They fanned the sailor's brow, and cnanted him 

a song. 
He was a thoughtful boy. who just had learned 

to know, 
That Life's deep waters ebb, as surely as they flow, 
That he was born to live, to think, to act, to die, 
And that his course was watched by God's all- 
seeing eye. 

He knew the guilt of sin, which is the cause of 

Hell, 
Of Paradise he'd dreamed, where holy beings 

dwell ; 
lie knew his ship must clear the dismal Straits 

of Death, 
And thither swiftly sailed, while he inhaled his 

breath. 

A heav'nly vision oft arose before his sight, 

Beyond the Grave it shone, e'en in the distance, 
bright ; 

The scene of beauty spoke — of glory all un- 
told— 

A halo o'er the sea it cast, like burnished gold. 



The sailor saw the light ! He turned his vessel's 

bow, 
And steered toward the land, that seemed so dis- 

7 



tant now ; 



146 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

His ship was off the coast of Pleasure's danger- 
ous shore, 

And when her course was changed, the winds 
her white sails tore. 

But when the wild waves raged, and tossed his 

tiny ship 
Upon the foaming surge, he let the anchor slip ; 
The anchor's name was Faith, it grappled to a 

Rock ; 
The vessel rode secure, and braved the tempest's 

shock. 

The voice of Jesus Christ appeased the troubled 

tide, 
And caused the little bark in peacefulness to 

glide 
Upon a rippling sea, till shadows o'er it hung, 
And ev'ry breeze that blew, a mournful requiem 

sung. 

The sun of Life's fair morn was shaded by a 

cloud, 
Before noon's glory shone, 'twas hidden in a 

shroud ; 
Say ! Was the sun of Life to gloom eternal 

given ? 
No ! no ! on earth it set, and, shadeless, rose in 

Heaven ! 



LIFE IN DEATH. 147 

The white sails grew obscure amidst the massive 

cloud, 
That wrapped the Straits within a dark, ethereal 

shroud ; 
The sailor and the ship were lost to mortal sight, 
Enveloped in the gloom of an Egyptian night. 

But soon the Straits were cleared, and then a 
waveless sea, 

The boundless, blue expanse of vast Eternity 

Was entered by the pass, named " Joy Forever- 
more," 

And there the ship was moored by the Elysian 
shore. 

September, 1859. 



148 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



MEMORY AND FAITH. 

Memory links us to the past, and Faith to the future. 
The exercise of Memory is generally sorrowful, for joy is 
rarely predominant in a human life. Memory unveils the 
darker side of the Christian's immortality — leads him 
through a shadowy graveyard in which his carefully- 
matured plans, joyful anticipations, fondly cherished hopes, 
and dearest friends, all alike "blasted hy the breath of Time, 
have been buried, lamented, and almost forgotten. Faith 
reveals the glorious and abiding realities of the Christian's 
future — links him to God through a union with Christ, and, 
by the prospect and assurance of Heaven, produces within 
his breast a spiritual "well of water springing up into 
everlasting life." 

While Memory explored the Past 

With an observant eye, 
A smile suffused her face, as light 

Illumes the evening sky ; 
For. in her childhood's home she stood, 

In which her youthful hours 
Had blessed the early morn of life, 

As dew-drops bless the flowers. 

But sorrow darkened Memory's brow, 

As near a grave she stood, 
The little grave where brother slept, 

Beneath the shady wood. 



LIFE IN DEATH. 149 

She plucked a rosebud from the place, 

And sadly turned away, 
While, for a happier scene than this, 

She silently did pray. 

But, as she turned, her glances fell 

Upon a grassy mound, 
And she, in search of joyful scenes, 

A mother's tombstone found. 
Poor Mem'ry wept, and madly wished 

She never had been born, 
And, in her agony, she sobbed, 

" I live, and love, and mourn." 

Faith heard the plaint ; in Memory's ear 

She whispered — " Earthly woe 
Is God's dark robe ; His blest designs 

Hereafter thou shalt know." 
She drew aside the veil of sense, 

And showed the Land of Best, 
Where sorrow-burdened souls repose 

In peace, forever blest. 

Where broken hearts by Christ are healed, 
Where tear-drops fall no more, 

Where grassy mounds are never raised, 
As in the days of yore ; 

Where life, and love, and peace, and joy, 
Supreme, eternal reign, 



150 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

And from the Christian's Paradise 
Forever banish pain. 

Where spirits love eternally, 

And know as they are known, 
Where all are rich beyond degree, 

For each calls Christ his own. 
Faith fondly looked in Mem'ry's eyes, 

The tears were gone, she smiled ; 
A glimpse of heav'n, to earthly woe 

Had fully reconciled. 

1859-1860. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 



151 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 153 



MY MOTHEK'S LOVE. 

When we remember, in the hour of temptation, the 
pious counsel of a departed mother, we may be assured that 
we are the objects of God's restraining grace. 

My mother's love ! its hallowed power 
Hath been the day-star of my life ; 

Its influence hath drawn me oft 

Away from scenes with danger rife. 

When Pleasure's luring whispers fell, 
In winning accents, on my ear, 

Inviting me to taste her joys, 

Without a single thought of fear, 

The counsel that my mother gave, 
When I, a child, knelt by her knee, 

And looked into her loving eyes, 
Came o'er the past again to me ; 

And in that hour I felt her hand 
Laid, as of yore, upon my head, 

I heard her voice again, and, lost 
Awhile, forgot that she was dead ! 

When from this reverie I w r aked, 

How Pleasure's painted face had changed ! 



154 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

The scene I viewed in Memory's hall, 
From Pleasure had my soul estranged. 

To guide the lonely orphan's feet 
Where peace and glory meet above, 

The angels woke within his soul 
The mem'ry of his mother's love ! 

September, 1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 155 



A HOME SCENE. 



'Tis Sabbath afternoon, and silver light 
Is gently streaming through the window shades. 
A shining beam upon the carpet sleeps, 
Another woos a bunch of waxen flowers, 
As if they were the handiwork of God. 
Upon the portrait of a lovely girl, 
"With holy face, and dark, uplifted orbs, 
A radiant sunbeam rests. 

The solemn clock 
Ticks on the mantel ; ever and anon 
I hear the rustling leaves that Mary reads, 
"While faintly sound the footstep and the voice 
Of passers by. A sacred hush pervades 
The parlor, and its power I deeply feel. 
In such a hallowed hour, on Mem'ry's breast 
My soul reclines, and dreams the time away. 
AVith mellowed radiance the room's suffused, 
And ev'ry one is silent. 

Mother sits 
Where father often sat before he died. 
Her face is sad, and yet the peace of God, 
That passeth understanding, sleepeth in 
The liquid depths of her dark, gentle eyes. 
A panorama of the pregnant Past 
Before her mental vision doth appear. 



156 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

None see what mother vieweth now, because 
No eye, except the eye of God, can gaze 
Within the sanctuary of the soul. 

The spirit's vision hath unbounded range. 

Though mountains rise and oceans roll between 

Us and the forms familiar to the scenes 

Of childhood's days, now absent many a year, 

We only need to close our eyes, and, lo ! 

The scenes and forms are witnessed by the soul. 

A burial-place, an ivy-covered church, 
An open'd gate, a silent throng that moves 
Along a shaded path, a new-made grave, 
Three weeping children, and a rev'rend form, 
With hoary locks, calm eyes, and lofty brow, 
Before my mother's spirit-vision pass. 
She sees her orphans as they, wond'ring, gazed 
Into their father's and her husband's grave. 

A dark'ning shade upon her count'nance falls, 
She heaves a deep-drawn sigh, and, lo ! a tear 
Upon her silken eyelash hangs. 

Behold 
Her face. She hears again the voice of him 
Who stood beside her husband's tomb, and said, 
" Fear not, lone widow, for thy Maker is 
Thy Husband, and His name ' The Lord of Hosts ;' 
He is the Father of the fatherless ; 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 157 

And, though the mountains should depart, and 

hills 
Remove, jet from thee and thine orphan babes, 
His loving-kindness never shall withdraw," 

Her eye upon her happy children fell, 
And then a gush of gratitude, too deep 
For words, rose from the altar of her heart 
To God, her faithful, cov'nant-keeping God. 

O Memory ! thou hast a magic power. 

The beams that wooed the waxen flowers, and 

kissed 
The portrait of the lovely girl, and slept 
Upon the parlor floor, have disappeared. 
]Sight mounts her starry throne, while shadows 

fall 
Upon the earth, and Darkness wipeth out, 
"With silent brush, the shining tracks of Day. 
The shades of gloom glide everywhere, and if 
The fire emitted not a ruddy light, 
Our parlor would be like the soul of man 
"Without the Gospel, for the curtains keep 
The light of moon and stars from shining in. 

February, 1860. 



158 CORN IN THE BLADE, 



MUSIC. 

My soul's a wondrous harp, and Music thrills, 
"With vivifying touches, ev'ry chord, 
Until my being breathes in ecstasy, 
And I, enraptured, live in melody. 
And then my spirit struggles to be free, 
And soar to heav'n whose air is harmony. 

I860. 



PIECES OF SEXTIMEXT. 159 



WHAT SHOULD I LOVE? 

How strange it is that men and women, who seem to 
possess common sense, are so frequently captivated by the 
beauty that perishes ! And how inexplicable that we so 
often fail to discover and appreciate, because concealed 
beneath a homely exterior, the loveliness of soul which 
never dies ! Though beauty be only skin-deep, yet we are 
fascinated by it, and though there is a loveliness of mind 
which is immortal, still we often allow it to exercise an 
unappreciated and unnoticed influence. 

u A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." 
— Solomox. 

What should I love ? A pretty face ? 

A laughing, sparkling eye ? 
A winning smile ? A graceful form ? 

All, no ! they all must die. 

Or should I look for gleams of wit. 
That dazzle where they shine ? 

Alluring Beauty ! should I kneel 
In homage at thy shrine ? 

Nay! Something nobler I demand ; 

True majesty of mind, 
A soul inspired with Godlike aims, 

I seek, and hope to find. 



160 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

For gleams of wit, like transient life, 

In death's gloom fade away : 
And beauty, like a cherished hope, 

Is blighted in a day. 

A woman's soul transformed by grace, 

Devoted, changeless, true ; 
A woman's heart so pure that it 

Guile's shadow never knew, 

I'd with my own unite in bands 

Immortal as my soul ; 
For when love's tide by death was stemmed, 

'Twould rise in heav'n to roll. 

May, 1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 161 



THE CHRISTIAN LOVER'S LAY. 

The exercise of love for 'the Saviour purifies the affec- 
tion of two sympathetic hearts, and renders it, like the 
grand centre to which thev are drawn thereby, unchange- 
able and immortal. 

My darling, Jesus loves thee, 

Oh ! in His bosom rest ; 
Cast all thy care upon Him, 

And be forever blest. 
My darling, Jesus saved thee 

From Satan, sin and hell ; 
And soon with Him in glory, 

Forever thou wilt dwell. 

Of Jesus' love I've told thee, 

I scarce dare tell mine own ; 
My heart is thine, my darling, 

Thine truly and alone. 
Unto my heart I'd take thee, 

And let thee nestle there ; 
I'd comfort, I'd console thee, 

And breathe thy name in prayer. 

Through life I'd be thy stay, love, 
Thy solace and thy joy ; 



162 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

In harmony we'd dwell, love, 

In peace without alloy. 
In death we would not part, love, 

Ah, no ! we both would rise 
To our bright home on high, love, 

With Jesus in the skies. 

There, to the harps of gold, love, 

A glorious song we'd raise ; 
And with the Lamb we'd reign, love, 

And ever sing His praise. 
O, take me to thy heart, love, 

And let me nestle there ! 
May all thy paths be peace, love, 

And all thy life a prayer. 

May % 1858. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 163 



ON HEAKL¥G A CHILD SEN T G. 

To my mind, the best representation of an angel is a 
beautiful child singing, with pathetic fervor, a hymn that 
expresses a longing for heaven. If I close my eyes, I can 
see her among the undefiled before the throne. 

blessed child ! I heard thee breathe 
Melodiously a lay ; 

Thy soul was trembling in thy voice, 

My spirit felt its sway. 
A gush of holy feeling welled 

Up from my deepest soul, 
And rose to ecstasy, as on 

My ear thy warbling stole. 

1 held my breath, and bowed my head, 

As if I were spell bound ; 
Unconscious I became, save of 

A low, soul-thrilling sound. 
I was awake, and yet I dreamed, 

Or else my spirit flew, 
Upon the wings that Music lent, 

And bathed in heav'nly dew. 

November, 1859. 



164 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



FIKST LOYE LOST. 

Incidents in a dream are often as painful or pleasant, and 
as fully lamented or enjoyed, for the time being, as if they 
were real. In like manner, he who has a vivid imagina- 
tion enters wholly into the spirit of his composition, 
though it be only a creation of fancy. 

I had a rose, a lovely flower, 
It blossom'd once alone for me ; 
It blooms in peerless beauty still, 
Among the roses on the tree. 
But no sweet-scented fragrance now 
The blooming rose exhales for me ; ' 
I see the blushing leaves unfold, 
Yet, mine they never more can be. 

I had a star, a brilliant gem, 
For none but me 'twas wont to shine ; 
Its light in glory bathed my life, 
I proudly said, " The star is mine !" 
How oft I raised my raptured eyes, 
To view its soul-entrancing light ; 
I raise them now, alas ! the star 
Hath disappeared in Hatred's night! 

I crowned an idol in my soul, 
And worshipped at its shrine alone ; 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 165 

God saw the sacrilege ; in wrath 

He tore the idol from His throne : 

In penitence before His feet, 

I strove resignedly to bow, 

And crush the passion in my heart, 

But yet I feel its yearnings now. 

The face I loved appears to me 
In dreamy hours of silent night ; 
The vision aggravates my grief, 
And yet I weep to see the light ; 
For dark, expressive eyes meet mine, 
And auburn curls droop o'er my brow ; 
But with the dawn of morn, they fade, 
And I am then as I am now. 

Of my young heart the pristine love 
To one flowed ardently and free ; 
I fondly hoped it was returned, 
For so it truly seemed to be. 
My hope is crushed, my heart is lone, 
And wonder-stricken in despair ; 
My too-confiding soul has learned 
That woman's not divine, though fair. 

Seek not on earth for changeless love, 
Or draughts of pleasure unalloyed ; 
A cup of wine, with poison drugged, 
Had better far be unenjoyed. 



166 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

O Thou .1 in whom I live and move, 
Thou only dost deserve my love ; 
Supremely may it flow to Thee, 
Here, now, and evermore above ! 

1858-1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 167 



LITTLE ALICE. 

Gentle, lovely, little Alice, 
Fair as a blooming flower ; 

Sweet as a blushing, dewy rose 
Kissed by the summer shower ! 

Sparkling, sprightly, hopeful Alice, 
Bright as the sunbeam's rav ! 

Thy dimpling smile is like the light, 
That shineth in the day ! 

Winning, fairy, fragile Alice, 

Thou art a spotless dove ! 
Thy mouth is like a fragrant bud, 

Thine eye doth melt in love ! 

Mourning, weeping, little Alice, 

A rainbow in the cloud ! 
A twinkling star in evening's sky, 

Wrapt in a fleecy shroud (!) 

Guileless, harmless, thoughtful Alice, 

I know thou art too fair 
To blossom in a world of sin, 

Without the Saviour's care. 



168 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Oh ! may thy tender, loving heart 
To Jesus Christ be given, 

And thou wilt bloom forevermore 
A lily fair in Heaven ! 

March, 1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 169 



THE PARTIXG. 

We met, we loved, then parted near 

A corner on Life's way, 
And ever since we have been sad, 

Though seeming blithe and gay. 

Our weeping eye, our whitened cheek, 

And wildly throbbing heart, 
Constrained us both in soul to say, 

"'Tis hard, 'tis hard to part.'' 

M I love thee not," thou saidst, but, oh ! 

" I love thee," said thine eye ; 
That silent language I believed, 

And shall until I die. 

We're parted now, and yet we're joined 

By love's mysterious power ; 
We speak not, but our souls commune 

Through many a thoughtful hour. 

Mysterious fate ! we're doomed to live 

Asunder and forlorn, 
Though Heav'n decreed that we should love, 

Ere ever we were born ! 
8 



170 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

To thee, O darling of my heart ! 

My first love hath been given ; 
But, lost one, thou wilt surely be 

Both mine and Christ's in heaven. 

December, 1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. lTl 



THE EETUEX. 

When one returns to a much loved object, after a long 
separation, the first and mutual emotion, when the ecstasy 
of reunion has subsided, if they both love God, is one of 
gratitude to Him who has brought them together again. 
Prayer, in such a moment, is, what it always ought to be, 
the spontaneous outgoing of the desires and affections 
toward the Deity. 

I have returned, my love, 

And thou dost view 
Thy lover, as in seasons past, 

To his love true. 
I'm sad and weary, love, 

I fain would rest, 
And pillow now this throbbing head 

Upon thy breast. 

I have returned, my love, 

O kiss me now ! 
My lips and eyelids gently press, 

And stroke my brow. 
Beloved, speak to me, 

As when of yore, 
Beneath the moon, thou saidst " I'm 
thine 

Forevermore !" 



172 COKN IN THE BLADE. 

Gaze fondly on me, love, 

"With thy dark eyes, 
In whose serenest, liquid depths, 

Love's spirit lies. 

touch me softly, love, 
A passioned thrill 

Will vibrate through my deepest soul, 
And my cup fill ! 

Draw nearer to me, love, 

And let us feel 
That mystic fellowship of soul, 

Voiceless, but real. 

1 know that mine thou art, 

And I am thine, 
And we are God's ; thus are we linked 
By chains divine. 

Give me thy hand, my love, 

JSTow let us kneel, 
And, underneath the eye of God, 

Our troth-plight seal. 
Silent we pray ; God hears, 

Through His dear Son ; 
Heav'n whispers to our hearts, we feel 

That they are one. 

I have returned, my love, 
But oh ! in heaven 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 173 

None e'er return, for leave to roam 

Is never given ; 
And no desire is felt 

To wander thence ; 
There will we love, but never part 

When we go hence ! 



March, 1860. 



174 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



TO NOBODY. 

My Loved One, when the ev'ning shades 

In silence o'er us fall ; 
When twinkling stars in Night's blue vault, 

To rest and slumber call, 
I'll think of thee. 

When dew-bathed roses fall asleep, 
Hushed by the murm'ring breeze ; 

When moonbeams play at "hide and seek," 
Among the rustling trees, 
I'll pray for thee. 

When, on the starry breast of Night, 

The earth in stillness lies ; 
When lonely woods, and haunted towers, 

Resound the owlets' cries, 
I'll dream of thee. 

When Seraphs draw the shades of Eve 

Around the setting sun ; 
And, through the folds, peep at the earth, 

To see what they have done, 
Oh ! think of me ! 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 175 

My darling, in the hallowed hour 

When fireflies light the dew, 
When starbeams glide among the graves, 

And kiss the waters blue, 
Oh ! pray for me ! 

When Angels all thy senses lull 

With drafts of soothing sleep ; 
And, when thou dream'st of one who loves, 

And who his vows will keep, 
Oh ! dream of me ! 

January, I860. 



176 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



PKEMONITIONS OF AN EAELY DEATH. 

Nearly all young sentimental persons, especially if their 
health is not robust, imagine that they are fated to die at 
an early age. They frequently nurse this idea until it 
becomes the cause of sickness, and even of death, itself. 
Such persons should retire with a clear conscience, at 
peace with God and man, sleep soundly, rise early, use 
plenty of cold water, take long walks, eat heartily of plain, 
nutritious food, do good, and, finally, be more matter of 
fact. 

Shades of darkness round me gather, 

Rising from the tomb, 
Yeiling all my hopes of glory, 

Shrouding me in gloom. 

Dark Foreboding o'er my spirit 

Spreads its dreary wings, 
While the voice of Premonition, 

Slow and solemn sings : 

" Doomed to die thou art, O mortal, 

In the morn of Life ; 
Soon thy soul, in Death's dark valley, 

Death shall meet in strife. 

" Fairest roses fade most quickly, 
Youth and Beauty die, 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 177 

Moldering in the silent churchyard, 
Forms like thine do lie !" 

Premonition chants ; my spirit 

Quaileth in dismay ; 
Shadows shroud my soul, and darken 

Hope's inspiring ray ! 

Near a black, mysterious river, 

Sad and lone I stand ; 
While, before my troubled vision, 

Flits a spectral band ! 

Stygian shades around me gather, 

Rising from the tomb, 
Veiling all my hopes of glory, 

Shrouding me in gloom. 

June y 1859. 



8* 



178 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD. 

A lovely child with dark-blue eyes, 

And waving, silken hair, 
Upon her mother's new-made grave 

Bowed down her head in prayer. 
Her golden curls drooped o'er the sod, 

Tears filled her eyes of blue ; 
She knelt in likeness of a flower 

Bathed in the sun-lit dew. 

Beneath the foaming, restless sea 

Her father long had slept ; 
And o'er his ocean-tomb, the waves 

A wailing vigil kept. 
Her mother lay in Death's embrace, 

Beneath the churchyard's sod ; 
And on her grave the orphan knelt, 

Before the orphan's God. 

She raised her weeping, dark-blue eyes, 

And whisper'd, " Mother, — come ! 
I pine, I die for want of love, 

Oh ! take me to thy home ! — 
Thy home where Jesus in His arms 

The lambs doth gently fold ; 
Where angels glide in beauty o'er 

The streets of shining gold !" 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 179 

Thus spoke the child ; and ere her words 

Had died upon the air, 
An Angel stood beside the grave. 

To grant the orphan's prayer ! 
The Angel parted from her brow 

The waving, golden curls, 
And softly kissed away the tears 

That fell, like liquid pearls. 

The Angel said, " I'll take thee home,'' 

And to her bosom fair 
She clasped the child — in light they rose, 

A rainbow in the air ! 
Down on the grave the orphan looked, 

Upon the grave she smiled ; 
Then faded softly from my sight 

The Angel and the child ! 

February, 1S59. 



180 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



HOPE AND LOYE. 

Hope is an angel from the sky, 

A seraph born above ; 
She has a sister pure and bright, 

Her sister's name is Love. 

Hand clasping hand, these sisters glide 
Throughout this vale of tears ; 

Love strikes a chord within our hearts, 
Hope dissipates our fears. 

"When yearning for a kindred soul, 

To fill a void within, 
Love openeth our hearts, and draws 

A kindred spirit in. 

When clouds of sorrow o'er us hang, 
Hope, like a star, doth rise ; 

With beaming face, and lifted hand, 
She pointeth to the skies ! 

When, in the gloomy vale of Death, 
We stand beside the grave, 

Then Hope will cheer our fainting hearts, 
And Love our spirits save. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 181 

On either side the golden gate, 

Blest Hope and Love will stand, 

To welcome all the blood-bought throng 
Into the Promised Land. 

But of the sisters, only one 

Will live and reign on high ; 

For Hope, upon the breast of Love, 
In Paradise shall die. 

May, 1859. 



182 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



THE LITTLE, LAUGHING, BLUE-EYED 
CHILD. 

If anything will touch the heart of a misanthrope, it is 
the artlessness and the unrestrained affection of a child. 

I sadly wandered forth one day, 

And pondered, as I stroll'd along, 

On themes distasteful to my heart, 

Yet suited to a Poet's song. 

I thought of all the glorious hopes 

I cherished when my youth began, 

Of love's bright dreams which now, alas ! 

Have faded, like the hopes of man. 

I thought of friends whom time had tried, 

And proved as treach'rous as the sea ; 

Then Memory, grieved, said to my heart, 

" Can such a thing as friendship he ? " 

The cank'ring love of gold that burns 
In many a heart this very day, 
Hath poison'd Friendship's sacred fount, 
And chased God's angel far away. 
Of sympathy for want and woe, 
Desire for gain hath robbed the soul ; 
O what a heart-enlarging power, 
This man-degrading passion stole ! 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 183 

The goddess, Fashion, round the soul 
Hath weaved a spirit- wounding spell ; 
For when her vot'ries feel love's power, 
Of love they must not, dare not tell. 
A limpid, gurgling stream that flows 
Eight freely through a shaded vale, 
Discoursing music as it hastes 
The weary pilgrim to regale, 
Hath on its rippling bosom now 
Of rankest poison handfuls strew'd, 
The pilgrim drinks to quench his thirst, 
But ah ! the draught with death's imbued ! 
So Fashion poisoneth the stream, 
That flows from ev'ry loving heart ; 
She turns the simple into guile, 
Transforms the artless into art ! 

"Ah, me!" I said, " the human race 
By Gold and Fashion is enslaved ; 
The signet of this king or queen, 
On ev'ry hurain heart's engraved." 

While thus I mused, I heard a voice, 
That sweetly said, " Thou art beguiled ;" 
I turn'd I look'd and, lo ! I saw 
A little, laughing, blue-eyed child ! 
Kind glances from her gentle eyes, 
Love's halo beaming on her face, 
Showed in her sympathetic heart 



184 CORN W THE BLADE. 

The love of gold had found no place. 
Her simple manner, as she stood 
A graceful beauty, unadorned, 
Proclaim'd that she had never yet 
The arts of formal fashion learned. 
The depths of her blue orbs revealed 
A nature ardent, pure and mild ; 
Oh ! how I wish'd the world was like 
This little, laughing, blue-eyed child ! 

February ', 1859. 



PIECES OF SENTIMENT. 185 



SPEAK GENTLY. 

" germ ! fount ! word of love ! 
thought at random cast! 
Ye were but little at the first, 

But mighty at the last." — Mackay. 

A correct idea of the power of language is seldom enter- 
tained. Many of us forget that our conversation— yea, 
almost every word we utter — exercises a mighty and a last- 
ing influence. We who are Christians, fail to realize the 
great amount of moral power we might exert by the loving 
use of encouraging words. We are prone to distrust and 
shun the penitent profligate, and too apt to turn the " cold 
shoulder" on the church-member who once yielded to 
temptation, but who is now confessing his sin, and seeking 
the forgiveness and favor of God. This course is contrary 
to the spirit of the Gospel, and to the example of our 
blessed Saviour. " Neither do I condemn thee ; go and 
sin no more," were the gracious words that fell from the 
lips of Jesus, like heavenly music, on the ear of the peni- 
tent. We, who are too censorious, forget our own liability 
to fall, and remember not the Apostle's injunction: "Bre- 
thren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye who are 
spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness ; con- 
sidering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." 

We may foster good resolutions in a struggling heart by 
a single word fitly spoken. Sunshine and dew are not 
greater blessings to the drooping flower, than smiles and 
gentle words of hope and love to the tempted soul. On 
the other hand, how many spirits emerging from the gloom 



186 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

of error and sin into an atmosphere faintly illuminated by 
the first rays of truth and holiness — how many spirits be- 
ginning to aspire Godward — have been astonished and 
wounded by harsh or thoughtless words from an ill-tem- 
pered, morose Christian. An ill-tempered, morose Christ- 
ian ! "What a contradiction of terms ! 

Let gentle words — words of admonition, encouragement, 
faith and love — fall ever from our lips. Jesus will smile 
upon them, and they will be transformed into rays of 
spiritual sunshine. Our souls will then be fountains, our 
lips outlets, and our words beams of heavenly love and 
light. Our own hearts will be cheered, ennobled and 
purified, while many among the redeemed, in time and 
eternity, will bless the Lord, that He gave us souls in 
which Christian thoughts were conceived, and tongues 
that uttered gentle words ! 

Speak gently, for an angry word 

May probe a tender part, 
And be a keen-edged knife to pierce 

A tempted, struggling heart. 
Shades may, or may not cloud the brow, 

Or moisture dim the eyes ; 
But, hidden in the spirit's depths, 

The word corroding lies. 

Speak gently ; Jesus never spoke 

In strains of passion wild ; 
The Saviour's voice was ever heard 

In accents meek and mild. 
The flower is shaken from its stem, 

When blighting tempests roll, 



PIECES OF SKJSTTIMENT. 187 

So, by an angry word, is crushed 
An earnest, loving soul. 

Speak gently ; like the morning dew, 

Thy words will rise, and shed 
From fragrant clouds, a glorious shower 

Of blessings on thy head ! 
Thus, thou mayst cheer a drooping soul 

For whom thy Saviour died ; 
And, blessed thought ! in doing this, 

Thou cheer' st the Crucified! 



I860. 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 



189 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 191 



THE STEAM HOESE. 

The steam horse ! tlie steam horse doth ride 

Eight gloriously on in his might ; 
He flies o'er the iron-bound track, 

His speed almost dazzles the sight. 
He never grows lazy or tired, 

But strides like a giant, along ; 
He pierceth and cleaveth the air 

With his echo-awakening song ! 

The steam horse ! the steam horse heeds not 

The distance most great that divides ; 
At the thought he contemptuously laughs, 

As mile-stones he, puffing, derides. 
He rushes along like the wind, 

His nostrils breathe fire as he goes ; 
To swallows that skim through the air, 

A challenge he fearlessly throws ! 

The steam horse ! the steam horse appears 

Like a warrior bound to the fight ; 
A conqueror chasing his foes, 

Who glories himself in their flight. 
He never grows lazy or tired, 

But strides, like a giant, along ; 
He pierceth and cleaveth the air 

With his echo-awakening song ! 

February, 1859. 



192 CORN LN THE BLADE. 



STANZAS FOR YOUNG MEN. 

Some foolish persons, of both sexes, imagine that there 
is something shameful and degrading connected with la- 
bor; while, in fact, the truest dignity of character is 
manifested by the man or woman w T ho engages in honest 
toil. The Patriarchs were farmers; some of the Pro- 
phets, they who held the closest communion with God, 
herded flocks ; the Apostles were mostly fishermen, and 
the blessed Saviour himself, for aught we know to the 
contrary, labored in the workshop of the carpenter, 
Joseph. 

There is a character, or, more correctly, a thing, mean 
enough to be worthy even of Satan's contempt. ; It is the 
indolent, vain, brainless fop, which, like a large monkey 
finely dressed, struts along our thoroughfares, especially 
Broadway, with a cigar between its teeth, a cane dangling 
from its gloved hand, an eyeglass resting on its nose, shin- 
ing patent boots on its compressed feet, and the end of a 
white handkerchief peeping from the side pocket of its coat. 
"While such a thing parades the street, its father is often 
either being ruined, or already bankrupt, dead and buried ; 
and its poor, old mother, and wearied sisters, are frequently 
toiling their lives away for its support. 

Young men of America, and of every land ! shun and 
despise the fop, as you would avoid and scorn the very 
essence of vanity, and the perfect embodiment of selfish- 
ness. Never degrade your manhood by imitating its per- 
nicious example, but glory in honest toil. 

A touth should never blush to own 
That he has blacked his shoes, 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 193 

Or sewed a button on his pants, 
When he a maiden woos. 

If she would look, because of this. 
Upon him with disdain, 

His love for painted, soulless clay- 
He should at once restrain. 

A youth should never be ashamed 

To labor for his mother, 
Or toil throughout the day, to clothe 

His little baby brother. 

A manly pride he well might feel, 

To take his father's place, 
And banish Want, that seeks to pale 

His sister's rosy face. 

Of all the human plants that grow 

Upon an earthly soil, 
Give me the honest, fearless youth, 
. Who's not ashamed of toil. 

. In halls, in palaces, on thrones, 
You will not find another 
As noble as the hoy, who toils 
To feed his widowed mother ! 

April, 1860. 



194: OOEN IN THE BLADE. 



SIGHTS AND THOUGHTS ON BROADWAY. 

AN EXTEACT FKOM A LONG POEM. 

Books exist which, are not printed 

On cream-laid sheets with gold-gilt tinted ; 

Books there be by men unwritten, 

And by critic's rod nnsmitten. 

" This cannot be," you say, " Because 

Each book is clutched by critics' claws, 

And with eagle-eyes inspected, 

And by critic-codes dissected." 

Yes, 'tis a literary law, 

That ev'ry literary flaw 

Must be outspread to public view, 

Because this is the public's due ; 

And not for what the critic pockets, 

By his " squibs " on " Odes to Lockets." 

But if the books of which I write 

"Were criticised, as well they might, 

Critics would shame their own profession, 

By critiques on their own expression. 

Each person hath a wondrous book, 

The eyes 1 are chapters, lines, a look ; 

The volume's found in ev'ry place, 

It is the silent, human face. 

A walking library exists, 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 195 

And he may scrutinize who lists, 
The countless, varied books that glide 
Along the street — a living tide. 
Where'er I roam, I watch and think, 
Thus, deeper draughts of wisdom drink 
From what I see, and feel, and dream, 
Than students who more studious seem. 
And so, on many a sunny day, 
My studio is on Broadway. 
My friend, if you'll not sleep or wink, 
I'll tell you what I see and think. 

A Wall street broker passes by, 
With avaricious, gleaming eye ; 
His eager glance, and lip compressed, 
Reveal a soul that lacketh rest ; 
A furrowed brow, and hoary hair, 
Are his returns for years of care. 
To gather gold his life's been spent, 
To hoard it now his soul's intent ; 
And yet the gold he dies to save 
Will all be left beside the grave ; 
And, for a lifetime spent in gloom, 
His dust will gain — a marble tomb ; 
But, when is broken Satan's spell, 
Which misers cherish long and well, 
The gold (appalling truth to tell !) 
Will drag the broker's soul to hell ! 
Because Jehovah placed him here, 



196 COKN IN THE BLADE. 

To occupy a nobler sphere ; 

To lift liis voice against the wrong, 

To aid the weak crushed by the strong ; 

To bless Humanity that groans 

'Neath thousand sin-erected thrones ; 

To search for Truth, and plead with Heaven, 

Till truth and moral power were given ; 

To rend Sin's veil, that hides Truth's light, 

And thus illumine Error's night ; 

To teach a world that long hath trod 

In darkness, of itself and God! 

Deathless Soul ! adore not " Mammon ;" 

This is naught but Satan's gammon, 

Practised on unlucky mortals, 

Luring unto Ruin's portals, 

Charming through Perdition's gateway, 

"Which, when entered, closeth straightway — ■ 

Opens not to spirits ever — 

By its silejice, whispers — " Never" 

To their groanings sounding ever. 

To their struggles made to sever 

Satan's chains that bind forever, 

Ruin's gateway answers — " Never /" 

There they groan and struggle ever ; 

Deathless soul ! serve " Mammon " never ! 

Ladies sweep, with rustling dresses, 
Tiny bonnets, braided tresses, 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 191 

Along tlie crowded, gorgeous street, 
Bowing to the u swells " they meet ; 
Whisp'ring, from beliind a fan, 
Of a noble-looking man, 
"Who, with beard a goat might envy, 
Keen eve " rolling in fine frenzy," 
Golden-headed cane in hand, 
And an eve-rfass to command 
Views distinct of ev'ry thing, 
Struts, majestic as a king. 

Why do ladies promenade ? 

Fear they that their cheeks will fade ? 

Walk they in pursuit of health 

On the street of pomp and wealth \ 

Health must move with slowest pace, 

If they catch it in the chase ! 

So much they drag, so much they carry, 

That they pant if in a hurry. 

Alas ! they strive to make a show, 
And win, by painted cheeks, a beau ; 
Or captivate, with clothing fine, 
A brainless fop, who fain would shine 
Among the crowd of starched-up fools, 
Who are not men, lid Fashion's tools ; 
Who nurse a hair, while virtue dies ; 
A moustache trim, while conscience cries 
Against the vain desires that make 



198 COKN IN THE BLADE. 

A man submit to many an ache, 
From tightened glove, and pincbing boot, 
To boast a little hand and foot ; 
Against the vanity that rules 
With sceptre turning men to fools ! 

January, 1860. 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECFS. 199 



THE MASSACRE OF SAINT BAE- 
THOLCQIE"W\ 

And when he had opened the fifth seal. I saw under the 
altar the sonls of them that were slain for the Word of God, 
and for the testimony which they held. And they cried 
with a loud voice, saying. How long. Lord, holy and 
true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our Wood on them 
that dwell on the earth \ And white rohes were given 
unto every one of them, and it was said unto them, that 
they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellow- 
servants, also, and their brethren, that should be killed as 
they were, should be fulfilled. — Jonx. 

The fatal hour approached. It was Sunday eve, and 
just six days after the royal marriage. The Catholic citi- 
zens, marked by a white scarf upon the left arm and a 
white cross upon the hat, were assembled at midnight at 
the H6tel de Yille. Twelve hundred arquebusiers were 
distributed along the Seine, through the streets and in the 
Huguenot quarter. The Duke of Guise, frenzied with the 
memory of his father's fate, with hatred for his natural 
enemies, the heretics, and with ambition, as the great 
Catholic leader, commanded the deadly brigade. . . . 

The fearful parts had all been assigned. The players 
waited, in mute suspense, the signal stroke of the great 
clock of St. Germain TAuxerrois. The secret council were 
assembled for the last time ; the plot was finished ; and 
with suppressed tones and furtive glances, they too listened 
for the knell of death. The city lay hushed in that oppres- 
sive stillness which precedes a hurricane — the victims, in 
unsuspecting sleep, the executioners on stealthy guard. — 
Life and Times of Sir Philip Sydney. 



200 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Now sounds the peal ! A vengeful murd'rous 

cry 
Ariseth, clain'ring to the silent sky, 
As if the damned had heard the knell, 
And, shrieking, burst the gates of hell ! 

A host of Seraphim, unseen by men, 
Descend, swift, noiseless, and, with angel-ken, 
Watch, eager for the glorious chance, 
To bear a soul to Heav'n from France. 

The pious Catholics the work begin, 
To rid the world of " heretics " and sin ; 
Thus Satan aid to eaten the prey, 
"Which Seraphs came to bear away ! 

Shrieks, agonizing, rend the midnight air, 
And moonbeams shine on dreadful carnage there : 
The young, the beautiful, the brave, 
Are hurried to a bloody grave ! 

The spirits of the martyrs, one by one, 
Rise to the King of Martyrs — God the Son ! 
Still from the ground their corses cry ; 
O " Harlot, drunk with blood," reply ! 

The Day of Wrath ! — the Judgment ! — draweth 

near, 
When thou, astonished, pale, appalled with fear, 
Shalt view the glorious martyr- throng, 
And, for a moment, hear their song! 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 201 

The Vision rises ! — From the glance of Heaven, 
Like ghostly vapors by a tempest driven, 
Thy Popes, Kings, Prelates, Priests, and they 
Who wounded Jesus, flee away ! 

Shriek after shriek to Hills and Pocks arise, 
" Fall ! — Hide as from the gaze of Jesu's eyes ; " 
But, hark ! — a voice ! — the mountains nod, — 
" Depart ! Depart ! accursed of God !" 



Exulting Seraphim, the Pansomed band, 
And white-robed Martyr-throngs from ev'ry land, 
Around the Throne, triumphant, sing, 
" So perish all Thy foes, O King !" 

1859-1860. 



9* 



202 CORN IN THE BLADE. 



A SACKED SCENE. 

Formal prayer — words which are the result of mere 
habit, and only uttered to pacify conscience — exercises no 
holy influence upon the soul, and is, in the highest sense, 
displeasing to God. On the other hand, when the exis- 
tence and presence of the Deity are fully realized, and the 
sincere desires of the heart offered up to Him, the soul is 
strengthened, refined and ennobled, while they who listen 
are, at least, impressed with the reality and solemnity of 
prayer. 

He knelt in prayer, and o'er the crowded 

throng 
Deep silence reigned, for breathing e'en was 

hushed ; 
And then in truest adoration bowed 
Was ev'ry head. 

His hands to Heav'n were raised. 
His eyes upturn'd : the windows of his soul, 
Though silent, spoke : their supplicating glance 
Shone through his tears, and, voiceless, strove 

with God. 
His accents, breathing reverence and awe, 
Broke from the deep recesses of his soul, 
And, tremulous, rose to Jehovah's Throne. 

The kneeling multitude could almost hear 
The throbbing of their hearts. 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 203 

Humanity, 
All conscious of its Author's boundless power. 
TTas lost in awe before the Deity. 
The knowledge of Jehovah's presence crept, 
In deep-felt silence, through the inmost soul 
Of each and all. 

The speaker's voice more low 
Became, and sounded lower still, till to 
A thrilling whisper it had died away. 
The fountain of his soul had overflowed. 
And. in its gush of feeling, drowned his voice ; 
For there he knelt, his hands to Heavn out- 
spread, 
His eyes uplifted, hut his voice had fled ! 

Some midst the silent throng had bowed their 

heads, 
And others turned their glances up to God. 
In stillness deep as death they all are bound, 
Xo voice is heard, yet ev'ry spirit prays. 

O skeptic (!) come ! behold the awful scene ! 
Survey thy fellow-men. as low they lie 
Before the Throne of Heav'n ! 

Say. dar'st thou break 
The silence which these conscious souls maintain, 
Because the power of the Unseen is felt. 
And now believe, or say, u There is no God P 1 

May, 1S59. 



204: CORN IN THE BLADE. 



CHATTEKTOK 

The history of that loved and lamented genius is pain- 
fully affecting. The thought and poetry of his childhood 
would honor the maturity of age. He struggled alone with 
poverty, and endured the sneers of an unappreciating 
world, and yet his young heart, too soon and bitterly 
acquainted with sorrows, gave birth to immortal thoughts, 
the influences of which are still felt. Like the majority of 
poets, he was despised and neglected in life, hut honored 
and applauded after death. "Why must the body of a poet 
be laid in the dust before the world will study and appre- 
ciate the language of his soul ? 

Ohatterton died unattended, an atheist and a suicide, in 
a dreary garret in the city of London. He lived among a 
race of cold-hearted, hypocritical religionists, whose lives 
continually contradicted their profession, and doubtless, he 
judged Christianity by their imperfection and sin. If " the 
blood of the martyrs be the seed of the church;" then a 
nominal Christianity is verily the support of Infidelity. 

O Chatteeton ! if thy great intellect had only 

grasped 
A true conception of the humble Christian's faith, 
And bowed in reverence before its Author — 

God; 
If thou hadst only known Him, whom to know 

aright 
Is everlasting life, how changed thou wouldst 

have been ! 
How changed in life, in death, and in eternity ! 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 205 

Christ would have sympathized when all thy 
hopes were crushed, 

For well He knew and deeply felt what anguish 
was. 

His love for which thy great, benighted spirit 
longed — 

Love vaster than the noblest Poet ere conceived, 

Or e'en could comprehend — love worthy of a 
God, 

Because unchangeable, most surely would have 
cheered 

Thy lonely heart. And when the selfish, blind- 
ed world 

Looked down from fancied heights upon the 
" Bristol Boy," 

Despising all the yearnings of a Poet's soul, 

Neglecting all the intellectual powers which 
might, 

By wise direction, have achieved such grand 
results, 

That e'en the universe of pure Intelligence 

Would have been greatly honored, and most 
truly blessed ; 

Yea, when unkindness probed thy soul so sensi- 
tive, 

Vibrated harshly Nature's harp so finely strung, 

Faith in a vital union with the living God, 

Through Christ who died upon the Cross for 
human sin, 



206 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

Would sure from heav'n have brought thee sweet, 

divine support. 
Faith would have raised thy thoughts beyond the 

clouds of w r oe 
"Which gathered, dark and dismal, o'er thy youth- 
ful head, 
Beyond the throbbing of thine orphan-heart, (for 

death 
Bereft thee of a father's, then a mother's love,) 
And left thee, like a wand'ring star in space, 

alone. 
Faith would have shown the land of Rest where 

weary souls, 
Who love the Lord, forget amid the glorious 

scenes 
The deepest sorrows felt on earth. 

Jehovah gave 
To thee, my native Isle a priceless gem, and yet 
Thou didst despise, or fail to know the precious 

gift _ 
Until its light had disappeared. 

His soul, that might 
Have drunk deep draughts of joy divine in Para- 
dise, 
Is lost forevermore ; his soul that might have 

praised, 
With all the ransomed hosts of heav'n, redeeming 
love, 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 207 

Perished, for aught we know, eternally.* 

Great God! 
Perchance the Poet never read Thy word aright, 
Or else was blinded by the acts of those who 

preach, 
But nullify their preaching by their lives. Thou 

know'st, 
And while Thy justice is, Thy mercy's infinite. 

* It is not, as the reader "will observe, asserted, without 
qualification, that the Poet perished eternally, but it is only 
affirmed that, for aught we know, his soul was lost. And this 
conclusion, as a matter of course, is based upon the hypothesis 
that the doctrines of Christianity, as interpreted by what are 
named " the evangelical denominations," are divine. 

September, 1859. 



208 COKN IN THE BLADE. 



THE IMMOKTALITY OF MAN. 



Am I immortal ? is it true, 
That, in this tenement of clay, 
There burns a spark of life divine — 
A spark whose light shall ever shine % 
When to the sepulchre I'm borne, 
When silent in the grave I lie, 
When into dust my body turns, 
Can it be said — The light still hicms 
The light of Immortality ? 



/ 



Oh ! when I pass away from earth, 
Like fleeting shadow from the wall, 
Or wave that breaks upon the shore, 
Say ! am I lost forevermore ? 
Or like the billow that returns 
Upon the fast-receding tide, 
Shall I not pass the shore of Death, 
And in Eternity draw breath ? 
Yea, in Eternity abide ! 

Why do I die? and what is death ? 
Is death the word for lack of breath ? 
Define the power entitled Life, 
Explain the deep, mysterious strife, 
That rages fiercely in the soul, 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 

Before life's gashing streamlets roll 
Into the everlasting sea 
Of fathomless Eternity :— 
Reveal the meaning of that strife ! 

The spirit is the life of man. 
The body but the souhs abode. 
And. when the spirit must depart. 
The body feels death's fatal dart ; 
And. when the spirit thence hath flown. 
The body cannot live alone : 
It. therefore, struggles, starts, and dies. 
But. disenthralled, the spirit flies 
Unto the Judgment-bar of God ! 

"When man's frail tenement of clay 
Is severed from his spirit's sway. 
We lay it in the silent grave. 
And from corruption none can save. 
His body dies, but not his soul. 
For. while eternal ages roll. 
In heaven with Jesus it shall reign, 
Or live amidst eternal pain- 
Yea, live amidst eternal pain ! 

The ruined spirit's dreadful fate 
Is but an everlasting state 
Of separation from the Fount 
Of bliss and glory paramount. 



210 CORN IN THE BLADE. 

This state is named Eternal Death, 

For, through eternity, a breath 

Of heavenly air is never drawn 

By any of the Serpent's spawn ; 

Nor by the doomed, who would not pray 

For mercy on Salvation's day. 

They're dead to love, to hope, and heaven, 

From God by sin they have been driven : 

This is the soul's eternal death ! 

Man is immortal ; for he feels 
The thought of endless being thrill, 
Armed with a strange, convicting power, 
Throughout his soul. And, in that hour, 
The thought, Tm like a dog in death. 
That passes, with his dying breath, 
To dust and nothing else but dust, 
Forbids his being to distrust 
The immortality of man. 

Man is Immortal ! In the grave 

There rots not all he was before. 

"Where is the Hope that cheered his mind? 

The Faith that made him so resign' d ? 

The Love that charmed his griefs away? 

And is his Memory dead for aye ? 

Are all the longings that opprest 

Hushed into everlasting rest ? 

Ah, no! flowers bloom before they fade! 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 211 

We would not wrap a gloomy shroud 

Of dreary darkness round the sun ; 

We would not close the twinkling eye 

Of every star in evening sky ; 

We would not change the glorious light 

Into a dismal, hopeless night ; 

Yet, men exist, who, round the tomb, 

Cast shades of deepest, darkest gloom, 

By doubting Immortality ! 

A Rainbow spreads its radiant arch, 
That speaks of hope, across the sky ; 
It beautifies the darkest cloud, 
Illumes the coffin and the shroud ; 
It sheds its radiance on the tomb, 
And gently dissipates the gloom, 
It touches earth, and reaches Heaven : 
This Rainbow is the hope that's given 
Of glorious Immortality ! 

1859-1860. 



212 COEN IN THE BLADE. 



LIFE. 

How much is heard from the pulpit and press concern- 
ing the solemnity of death ! how little, comparatively, of 
the responsibility and solemnity of life ! It is too fre- 
quently forgotten that eternal destiny is determined by the 
deeds done in the body, and not by the manner of our 
death. 

Life is to all a grand reality. 
It is more solemn far to live than 'tis 
To die, because eternal destiny 
Depends upon the spirit of our lives. 

Is heav'n to be desired ? Hell to be shunned ? 
Then, heav'n must be secured in life, and hell 
Escaped before we die. Must we be saved, 
And Jesus glorified ? Then, pardon for 
Our sins, and grace to live aright, and strength, 
To die victorious over death, must be 
Obtained here, now, by vital faith in Christ. 
When we are " changed " they cannot be secured, 
And while we breathe, and think, and act, we 
die. 

As far as the accomplishment of good's 
Concerned, the lives of multitudes of men 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 213 

Are vapor, but the grand results of life 
Make life a fact, both awful and sublime. 
To live aright is to enjoy God's love, 
Which is a heav'n ; but to exist in sin 
Incurs His wrath, which is a perfect hell. 
To die is but to enter on a state 
In which His love or wrath is fully felt. 

Life is the portal both of hell and heav'n. 
The wicked have a hell within their breast, 
The righteous a proemial paradise. 
Death fully ushers into either state 
Each disembodied soul. 

Thus, life becomes 
To ev'ry member of the human race, 
The fount of joy immortal and divine, 
Or everlasting woe, the bounds of which 
Are God's displeasure, and the spirit's powers. 

April, 1860. 



THE END. 



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